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Mother 






SHE WANTED TO VOTE 

OR, 

HOME INFLUENCES 



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Crawfordsville, Ind. 

BROWER BROS., Publishers 
1901 



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THF UORARY OF 

@0**G*ESS, 

Two Copies Receiver 

m 6 1902 

& <V*ft'R|OHT ENTRY 

CL XXc No. 

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Copyrighted 1901 

BY 

EVA C. BALLARD 


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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

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WILSON, HUMPHREYS b CO. 
Printers, Binders and Einctkottfi&s 
Logansport, Indiana 


ILLTJFTBATID 

BY 

Chas. Dowden 








DeMcateb 




y* O men and women, who believe the home to 
be a divine institution, wherein love should 
reign supreme, the ennobling virtues of life be 
daily taught and practiced, and the father and 
mother mutually share its pleasures, sorrows, and 
responsibilities. 


E. G. B. 


The woman’s cause is man’s; they rise or sink 
Together, dwarfed or godlike, bond or free: 
********* 

For woman is not undeveloped man, 

But diverse; could we make her as the man, 
Sweet Love were slain : his dearest bond is this 
Not like to like, but like in difference. 

— Tennyson* 


CONTENTS 

-CHAPTER PAGE 

1. The Blandens and Moreleys 1 

2. The Address and Marriage 15 

3. The Accident 27 

4. The Burial 41 

5. The Discovery 53 

6. The Outing 61 

7. At the Cabin . 71 

8. The Strange Visitors 79 

9. Unexpected Events 87 

10. Aunt Maria 93 

11. Katy’s Christmas Present 101 

12. Equal to the Emergency 107 

13. Leaving the Farm 115 

14. Valuable Facts 121 

15. Our Grand-daughter 133 

16. Katy’s Departure 141 

17. You May Seek Your Own Employment 147 

18. Effect of Influences 153 

19. Unsatisfactory Conditions 165 

20. Encouragement 173 

21. The State Convention 183 

22. Meeting an Engagement 191 

23. Different Methods of Reform 197 

24. An Interview with the State Chairman 207 

25. Unpleasant Associations 213 

26. The Strange Grandma 219 

27. Incidents of the Joint Canvass 229 

28. Unexpected Company 237 

29. The Stanley Home 251 

30. Faithful to the Last 263 

31. True Benevolence 273 

32. True Gratitude 283 

33. The Rich and the Poor 291 

34. Results 301 












































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CHAPTER i. 


THE BLANDENS AND MORELEYS. 

Early in the morning, when the first twitter 
of the birds in the forest proclaimed the return of 
day, Margaret Blanden was up preparing for her 
journey. The pure morning air, sweet scented by 
the fragrant bloom of June roses, and the quiet- 
ude of the environments, quickened her elastic 
step, and before the first ray of the cheering sun- 
light was visible to her, every member of the 
household was at his respective duties. Break- 
fast was quickly prepared, and the ringing of the 
bell brought them all to the table. True to the 
custom of the family, they discussed the antici- 
pated events of the day. The trip for Margaret, , 
and her address before the alumni, was the sub- 
ject for the morning. Her mother gave encour- 
aging words, saying, “You are just the right one 
for that place, and I am glad to see you so highly 
honored.” 

Her father was not enthusiastic on the subject 
of literary women, but was deeply interested in 


2 


She Wanted to Vote. 


his daughter, remarking to her, “I am very proud 
of your ability, and wish you success, but I want 
you to be thoughtful and careful in every act of 
your life, and remember that your father believes 
the ‘crowning virtue of woman is modesty.’ ” 

Frank, Margaret’s brother, had been quietly 
listening to the conversation, and, turning to his 
mother, he said, “I don’t see why it is that you 
never come over to the school house with father 
to hear me speak, and see what you think of me. 
I don’t think it’s fair for Margaret to have all the 
praise, and go every place, too.” 

“Well, Frank,” replied his mother, “Margaret 
is older than you.” 

“I don’t care,” he retorted, “I am a real live 
boy, and have wants and needs. Besides, I like 
to go places.” 

“Stop, son,” said Mrs. Blanden; “the public 
rostrum is monopolized by men ; and, with all the 
assistance that can be given a woman by her fam- 
ily and friends, she can scarcely crowd herself in 
as a recognized speaker. I am determined that 
Margaret shall have every advantage that money 
will give. There will be a place for you when 
you become a man. As one man retires from the 
field of labor, necessity calls forth another.” 

By this time Frank’s stomach and heart were 


The Blandens and Moreleysi 3 

both full, and he was leaving the table when his 
mother said: “Frank, bring out the horse and 
carriage as quickly as possible, for Margaret 
should be off.” 

In obedience to this command, Frank soon 
had the carriage at the door, and in a very short 
time they were on their way to the station. There 
were no new scenes to interest either of them 
along this road, which they had traveled so often, 
and as Frank was not very talkative, Margaret 
amused herself thinking of the reunion of her 
class that was to be held that evening. “To be 
thus honored,” she said aloud, “is more than I 
expected, but even this is not my highest ambi- 
tion.” 

Frank made no reply, and Margaret, feeling 
that he was unjustly indifferent to her, said kind- 
ly : “Please do not be angry with me, brother. I 
would not intentionally do you a wrong. Mother 
encouraged me to go, after my friends have so 
kindly invited me, and really, I had no excuse for 
declining.” 

“I do not blame you for going,” he said, with 
an indication of remorse, “but mother should re- 
member that I have a future before me.” 

“I hope you have a bright one,” replied Mar- 
garet, as Frank helped her from the buggy. He 


4 


She Wanted to Vote. 


did not wait to continue the conversation nor to 
assist her into the station, but immediately said 
“Good-bye, ” and started homeward. - With a 
sober, thoughtful expression on her face, Mar- 
garet stood and watched the buggy until it was 
entirely out of sight, and then taking up her bag- 
gage, she walked leisurely down the platform into 
the uninviting waiting room, where she was sur- 
prised to find a number of people from her neigh- 
borhood. She formally bowed to them and 
passed on to the east side of the room and seated 
herself as far as possible from the people she 
knew. She was brought up to think that the 
Blandens were superior to all the people of that 
rural district, and her college life had had a tend- 
ency to strengthen her in this uncharitable con- 
clusion. She sat quietly listening to the conver- 
sation of those around her until she overheard the 
flippant remark from a very near neighbor, that 
“Mrs. Blanden’s radical suffrage ideas have made 
a fool of Margaret, and I fear they will be detri- 
mental to Frank. She is so ambitious to push 
women to the front that I believe she would sacri- 
fice the welfare of her own son, if it were neces- 
sary, to give her daughter prominence.” This 
was an unbearable reproach and she gave the wo- 
man a fierce, resentful look, and angrily walked 


The Blandens and Moreleys. 


5 


out upon the platform. She was surprised and 
pleased to see the train speedily approaching, and 
in her anxiety to “move on” she hurriedly ran 
back, gathered up her bundles, and was the first 
one to enter the car. The coach was crowded, 1 
and she walked nearly through it before she 
found a seat. Finally she asked permission of an 
amiable looking old gentleman to occupy a part 
of his seat, and he very kindly made room for her. 
He was a stranger in the state, and he very court- 
eously remarked about the country as they were 
carried along. Margaret talked freely, inquiring : 
“How do the towns we are passing through com- 
pare with those of your own state?” 

“I have passed through some very pretty 
places in this state, but I have found none yet, in 
my estimation, that compare with Oakland.” 

This name startled her, and with much ani- 
mation she asked, “How long have you lived 
there?” 

“I have lived there nearly forty years.” 

“Indeed, you are surely acquainted with the 
town and the people.” 

“I have known the town from its infancy, and j 
I know a great many of the people.” 

“Do you know Roy Stanley ?” she eagerly in- 
quired. 


6 


She Wanted to Vote. 


“Roy Stanley ? that is a familiar name. Is he 
an acquaintance of yours?” 

“He was a class mate of mine. We graduat- 
ed the same year at Greensbury.” Margaret did 
not notice that he failed to tell her whether or not 
he knew him, and continued the conversation by 
saying: “He was a good student and a favorite 
with the class.” 

The gentleman smiled, saying: “That is all 
very complimentary, and I am pleased to hear 
such unexpected words of praise about my boy.” 

“Your boy!” she excitedly exclaimed. “Are 
you Roy Stanley’s father?” 

“I am proud to say, I am, for he is a noble son 
and one who has worked hard for his education. 
I am truly glad that he justly merits the praise he 
has won. If you do not object, I should be glad 
to have your name,” said the gentleman. 

Margaret was glad of the opportunity to give 
this stranger her name, for she knew it would be 
a message to Roy, and she was always pleased 
to be remembered to him. Reaching for her port- 
folio in which she had left her cards, she was 
greatly astonished to find that it was not there. 
She looked again, but only to be disappointed. 
She turned to the gentleman, and said, “I was 


The Blandens and Moreleys. 7 

looking for my card, but I find I have none with 

„ >> 

me. 

He gave her a pencil and paper, upon which 
she wrote, “Margaret Blanden, Class 18 — 

At this time the conductor called out, “Laurel 
Junction.” 

The gentleman said to Margaret, “I change 
cars here and may never see you again, but I shall 
ever remember the kind words you have spoken 
about Roy. May God’s blessings be with you — 
Good bye/' 

When he had gone she made another search 
for her portfolio, but she could not find it. “What 
shall I do,” said she, “it contains the manuscript 
of my address.” While this train was waiting 
for another, she hurriedly ran into the telegraph 
office to telegraph for it, but was informed that 
the experss train was not due at Greensbury until 
nine o’clock that night, too late to be of any serv- 
ice to her. She rushed back into the car trembling 
with anxiety. Her sense of duty and feeling of 
pride were pressing upon her to make the address 
while her carelessness taunted her with the 
thought of failure. With tears glittering in her 
eyes, she petulantly threw herself into the seat. 
Suddenly recalling her position she said to her- 
self : — “I will rewrite what I can remember of it, 


8 


She Wanted to Vote. 


and depend upon the inspiration of the hour for 
the rest.” 

Her trip was one of surprise, disappointment 
and anxiety. As she sat reflecting upon her 
dilemma these words of her father came to her. 
“Be thoughtful in every act of your life.” For a 
moment, her tears flowed freely and these 
thoughts passed through her mind : “Father is so 
cautious, always saying and doing something for 
my good, I almost wish I was at home with him. 
His love and protection make me feel far more 
comfortable than the honor of the task before me. 
However, I have undertaken this and there is but 
one honorable way out, and that is to make the 
address as announced. This I will do. Should I 
fail, that cruel Robert Ashley would have the 
whole class twitting me about my failure because 
I am a woman. He is so decidedly domestic, if 
he could have all the ladies as he wants them there 
would be none with higher aspirations than the 
kitchen or nursery.” This expression of her feel- 
ings was no injury to Robert, and a great relief to 
Margaret. There was an air of vengeance about 
it, that brought a degree of relief from the misery 
of her misfortune. 

She was now in sight of Greensbury and very 
carefully gathered up her belongings. The train 


The Blandens and Moreleys. 9 

was yet moving slowly when Robert Ashley 
walked into the car to meet her. She greeted 
him kindly, but betrayed a feeling of disappoint- 
ment that needed not to be expressed to Robert, 
for he well understood. 

“I am to assist you,” explained Robert, “in 
whatever way my services are needed. Roy Stan- 
ley is not coming, and requested me to do this as 
a favor to him.” 

“Not coming! Why? Did you get word 
from him ?” 

“I received a telegram since 1 came here this 
morning. Here it is, you can read it yourself.” 

Taking the message she read as follows : — 

“Cannot come; please assist Margaret as a 
favor to me. Roy Stanley.” 

I shall need no assistance, she thought, if you 
are my dependence, but prudence kept her from 
saying so. Passing the telegram back to Robert 
she eagerly inquired, “Will Austin Lokeridge be 
here?” 

“He is here now. I met him on the street as I 
came to the station.” 

This was good news to Margaret, for she 
knew, at the least encouragement, it would be his 
pleasure to give her every attention. They had 
scarcely stepped upon the platform when Grace 


10 


She Wanted to Vote. 


Moreley, whom Robert had left waiting, met 
Margaret with such expressions of delight that 
the cares of both were lost for the moment, by the 
overwhelming pleasures of re-united friendship. 
For six years, or from the days of their girlhood, 
they had been friends, and Margaret was wel- 
comed back with the affection of a sister. 

Robert knew the intimate relation of these 
two girls when they were all in college together, 
and when they reached Grace’s home he excused 
himself that they might be alone. 

Mrs. Moreley, Grace’s mother, met them at 
the door and gave Margaret such a motherly 
greeting, she soon felt the freedom of former 
days. The Moreley home was a comfortable 
frame house, with large rooms neatly and cheer- 
fully furnished. It was one of those beautiful 
homes where the house was built and furnished 
for convenience and comfort — where the children 
had played in the kitchen while the mother was 
doing her own work, and where they were taught 
that the “Golden Rule” was the law by which 
they must decide their questions of difference. 
This early training had certainly left its impress 
upon Grace. Her kind, thoughtful manner im- 
parted the spirit of her real disposition and any 
air of indifference was unnatural. Her respect 


The Blandens and Moreleys. 


11 


and love for her parents was of that high degree 
that caused her to obey the command, “Honor 
thy father and thy mother.” Their affection for 
each other was now doubly dear. She, the young- 
est child of the family, the baby Grace, was that 
night to be given away in marriage to Robert j 
Ashley, and the ties of love which had so closely 
bound parent and child would, to a certain extent, 
soon be broken. 

Grace had thoughtfully kept the room for 
Margaret that she had occupied during the time 
she was in college, and remembering her old time 
custom of taking a nap in the afternoon she asked 
her, “Would you like your usual afternoon nap? 
If it is still your custom I am sure you will espe- 
cially need it this afternoon after your long ride,, 
and with your task before you.” 

“O Grace! you have lost none of your former 
kindness. A rest would be so refreshing, I am 
sure I need it.” 

“Come with me,” said Grace, “I will show 
you to your room.” 

When she saw that Margaret was comfort- j 
able she left her, saying, “Father is coming with 
the florist, and while you are resting I will super- 
intend the decorations. I am especially interested 
in the ‘Horse Shoe’ we are to stand beneath.” 


12 


She Wanted to Vote. 


“Have it made of the flowers that mean love 
and contentment, then it will be an emblem of 
good luck.” 

Margaret was now alone in her old room, and 
if ever she had a thankful heart, it was for the 
privilege of being alone at this time. It was the 
same place she had occupied during her college 
days — the happiest days of her life. Thus sur- 
rounded, she was soon enraptured with pleasant 
recollections, so delightful to her worried brain, 
that when she recalled the task before her it was 
not with feelings of dismay but a determination 
to succeed. Her nature was both sensitive and 
•decisive, and the thought had scarcely come to her 
when she seized her pencil and paper and wrote 
with the intensity of one guided by inspiration. 
The very walls seemed invisibly stamped with her 
past efforts and now as she gazed upon them she 
read pages of her best productions. With this 
imagery, her faithful memory and unremitting 
labor, she prepared a substitute for her lost manu- 
script. 

Pausing to congratulate herself over this vic- 
tory, she was startled by the bell for lunch. 
“What time is it, I wonder?” Looking at her 
watch she found it was just six o’ clock. 

“Horrors!” here I have secluded myself for 


The Blandens and Moreleys. 13 ' 

nearly three hours. What shall I tell them? I 
must not tell them I lost my address, for that is 
my secret. How ungrateful I appear for all their 
kindness and their generous hospitality.” 

Passing hurriedly down the stairs and on into 
the dining room she met Mr. Moreley and dex- 
trously turned the conversation to topics more 
restful and less embarrassing. After lunch, 
Grace and Margaret walked leisurely through the 
rooms talking very confidingly for the few min- 
utes they had before time to prepare for the even- 
ing. 









<\ 




CHAPTER II. 


THE ADDRESS AND MARRIAGE. 

“What a beautiful evening,” exclaimed Mar- 
garet, as she walked to and fro on the veranda. 
“This has been a grand day — one of nature’s 
best — and now the golden link of twilight, which 
connects daylight and darkness, comes in its calm, 
refreshing beauty, and adds such fascination that 
the earth seems a pleasure garden and the gentle 
zephyrs songs of praise.” 

In this rapture, she was ever mindful of her 
own attractive appearance ; and, when Grace came 
to the door, freely praising her beautiful costume, 
she was reassured that, in appearance as well as 
position, she would be the honored one of the 
evening ; and an air of satisfied vanity rested upon 
her countenance. 

Grace was very elaborately dressed, but Mar- 
garet gave no evidence of admiring her toilet. 
She had been humored and praised so much by 
her mother that she felt all compliments were due 
her for superior judgment and good taste. She 
was surprised and pleased with Grace’s elegant 


16 


She Wanted to Vote. 


dress of white satin, but said nothing, believing 
her silence would leave her in doubt about its 
style and beauty. Grace was impressed with Mar- 
garet’s action just as she had desired her to be, 
and returned to her mother to see if anything 
was neglected. When assured by her parents that 
nothing more could be added to the attractiveness 
of her toilet, she was at ease, and said to herself, 
“Why should Margaret be so selfish and act so 
indifferent to my appearance on this important 
occasion ?” 

During their college days the difference of 
their natures had many times been advantageous 
to both. Margaret’s ambition, energy and enthu- 
siasm had encouraged Grace; while Grace’s kind- 
ness, timidity and caution had restrained Mar- 
garet. Their long association left its influence 
upon their habits, but it did not eradicate the dis- 
position moulded in childhood. And now, after 
a separation of two years, when they came to- 
gether with broader and more fully developed 
views of life, Grace was pained to find that they 
had drifted so far apart there was but little con- 
geniality between them. Margaret was so ecsta- 
sied over the honor of delivering the address that 
she gave no particular attention to the claims of 
her friend and room mate. 


The Address and Marriage. 17 

Before they were together again, Robert Ash- 
ley and Austin Lokeridge were in the- parlor. 
Margaret was determined to have the proper at- 
tention from Austin and entertained him in her 
most bewitching manner, expressing through her 
large brown eyes feelings of pleasure which 
usually come from the light of the love that 
warms the heart. Whether it was an earnest look 
or not, it was to Austin a message of hope. He 
regarded it as a response to that unanswered love 
he had secretly borne for her, and it allured him 
to betray emotions which had long been hidden 
from the world. During their college life they 
had become devoted friends, with the understand- 
ing that their friendly associations should lead to 
nothing more. Margaret often referred to him 
as “Brother Austin,” and would send for him 
when neglected by others, as she did on this occa- 
sion, when Roy Stanley failed to come. This ac- 
commodating quality of Austin was not now 
wholly prompted by brotherly kindness. Such an 
outburst of generosity on the part of a young man 
is very unusual and not long continued toward the 
same individual. With him, their intimate rela- 
tion had awakened the tenderest sentiment of the 
soul, that subtle, silent power that often defies the 
will and controls the judgment. With his heart 


18 


She Wanted to Vote. 


now beating with emotion, his polite attentions 
were graced with extreme kindness and given at 
every opportunity. It was now nearing the time 
for the address, and Margaret Blanden and Aus- 
tin Lokeridge left the house and walked slowly 
to the chapel that they might once more view the 
familiar scenes which now brought to mind many 
pleasant memories. 

“Here is the same tree we often sat beneath,” 
remarked Margaret, as they entered the campus, 
“still alive, and flourishing with pride its beauti- 
ful foliage.” 

“And still silent and speechless,” replied Aus- 
tin. 

“May it ever remain so,” was Margaret’s 
quick reply. “Would you have it turn telltale and 
repeat all that has been spoken beneath its 
branches ?” 

“To hear all would be very dull entertain- 
ment, but no doubt some things would be very 
interesting to me.” 

They both thought of the time when she and 
Roy Stanley had studied there together, but for 
some reason they said nothing and walked in 
silence to the college chapel. As they entered 
the hall the music of the orchestra filled her soul 
with delight. When she walked upon the plat- 


The Address and Marriage. 19 

form she was greeted with a round of applause 
by the large body of students who were present. 
The president of the alumni association, in a neat 
little speech, introduced Miss Margaret Blanden 
as the first lady graduate upon whom had been 
conferred the honor of making the annual ad- 
dress. She spoke with that spirit and earnestness 
characteristic of her nature, and justly merited 
the praise which was bestowed upon her by ad- 
miring classmates and friends. 

We will leave Margaret Blanden, satiated 
with the pleasure of her success, and return to the 
parlor where we left Grace Moreley and Robert 
Ashley. There we find Grace very happy. She 
is not entranced by the power of music nor by the 
applause of the public, but inspired by the love of 
a true manly heart. There was a mutual feeling ; 
heart gave response to heart, and this union of 
sentiment formed the bond of love which was the 
source of their strength and happiness. He was 
strenghtened by her confidence and dependence, 
and she felt the need of no other human protec- 
tion than that she found in his purity of heart, 
superior strength and manly courage. Their hap- 
piness was not determined by applause or eulogies, 
but by the approval of conscience. In deference 
to the persuasion of the class, they had consented 


20 


She Wanted to Vote. 


to be married in the chapel, and they left the house 
in time to reach the auditorium at the close of the 
address. As the orchestra was playing, in sweet 
low strains, the Mendelssohn wedding march, they 
were slowly ushered down the aisle in front of the 
rostrum, where they were married by the president 
of the college. 

In only a few seconds of time they were pub- 
licly obligated to share each other’s unknown fu- 
ture, to comfort, love and cherish each other only. 
Before God and man they willingly and solemnly 
promised to live for each other. After an earnest 
prayer to the Father of all for their guidance and 
sacred reverence for their marital vows, they were 
led from the chapel with nothing to disturb the 
death-like stillness which pervaded the room 
save the sweet music of the orchestra. Hence- 
forth, they were to confront the world as husband 
and wife, made one by the law of the land and the 
sanction of revealed religion. 

Margaret and Austin accompanied them back 
to Mr. and Mrs. Morel ey’s parlor, where they re- 
ceived the congratulations of the class and a few 
friends beneath the horse-shoe of flowers which 
Grace had caused to be arranged with so much 
care. Light refreshments were served in the spa- 
cious dining room and every one enjoyed to the 


The Address and Marriage . 


21 


fullest measure the hospitality of the Moreleys. 
As they were leaving the table Mrs. Moreley gave 
Margaret a letter which had been received in the 
afternoon, but in the midst of so many duties she 
had neglected to give it to her. Margaret looked 
at the address and immediately laid the letter 
away. Turning to Austin, she knew from the ex- 
pression of his countenance that he had recognized 
the hand-writing. With apparent indifference she 
resumed the conversation, but Austin did not hear 
what she said, and invited her “to walk out in the 
yard and enjoy the moonlight.” 

“Thank you, Austin, I am tired and nervous 
and the stillness of the night, brightened by the 
tranquil moon, may impart to me a feeling of 
rest.” 

He offered her his arm, saying, “Let me assist 
you and prove myself of service.” 

“I need no further proof of your good inten- 
tions,” she said as they walked to the gate, “but 
I never refuse your kindness. I am already under 
lasting obligations to you. I feel that I never can 
repay you.” 

They walked slowly, he was looking upward, 
as though appealing to a higher power to know 
his fate. At last he said, “You can repay me by 
telling me the truth.” 


22 


She Wanted to Vote. 


“I am quite certain I have been in the habit of 
telling you the truth,” she said, in a tone of sur- 
prise. 

“I do not doubt you when you speak, but I am 
afraid your actions have been more to express 
gratitude for my service than the real pleasure my 
company gives you. You know we agreed to be 
friends, and for this reason I have never avowed 
my feelings, but by your kindness I have allowed 
hope to enter my heart, although I am told by 
others, as well as this ring on your finger, that 
your love is for another.” 

Before she gave him an answer, Mrs. Ashley 
called to her saying : “Margaret, it is nearly time 
for us to leave. Will you please give me just a 
few moments of your time?” 

“With pleasure,” replied Margaret, and turn- 
ing to Austin excused herself, saying, “I have 
never been false to you in word or look.” 

The parting words of Mrs. Robert Ashley and 
Margaret Blanden are unknown, save the promise 
of Margaret to remain with Mrs. Moreley a few 
days, that she might not feel so lonely. The car- 
riage at the gate announced train time, and Mr. 
and Mrs. Ashley bade their many friends good 
bye and departed. It was midnight before all the 
guests had gone. When Margaret went to her 


The Address and Marriage. 


23 


room Austin’s words were in her ears and of more 
interest to her than anything she recalled. Mus- 
ing on the separation of friends and true friend- 
ship, she fell asleep. It was not until late the next 
morning, after she had eaten breakfast and re- 
turned to tidy her room, that she thought of the 
letter. She was astonished and vexed that she 
had forgotten it and broke the seal and eagerly 
read as follows: 

“Oakland, Ohio, June 18, . 

“Dear Friend Margaret: 

“I am very sorry I cannot be with you to- 
night, but under present circumstances it is for 
the best. 

“May the pleasures of the evening equal your 
expectations. 

“Hastily, your friend, 

“Roy Stanley.” 

“Very brief, indeed,” said she, after reading 
the letter the second time. “What mysterious 
circumstance can there be that makes it best for 
him not to come? That is the same excuse he 
made when I represented our society in the prize 
debate. Does he think his absence will discour- 
age me or keep me off the rostrum ?” 


24 


She Wanted to Vote. 


Quickened with pride and anger, she said, re- 
vengefully, “Not while I have a friend who enter- 
tains me so well that I forget his letters. One 
whose presence gives me encouragement and who 
is ever ready to render me all the assistance I 
need.” 

She had often relied upon Austin Lokeridge 
when other friends had disappointed her; and 
when she thought of severing this long friendship 
for one who neglected her on occasions when she 
most desired his presence, for reasons he would 
not express, she realized that her feeling for Aus- 
tin was more than friendship, but that of love, 
founded on confidence and real worth. She was 
alarmed at the thought, but secretly pleased with 
the conclusion. Conscious of her love for Austin 
and her engagement to Roy she was not in a posi- 
tion to be envied. Roy’s portly form, handsome 
face and genial nature made him many admirers, 
and his education and talent gave him language 
and expression so earnest and appealing as to 
elicit sympathy — a feeling often mistaken for love. 
His cognizance of his impressive manner inspired 
a self importance that led to a reserved assump- 
tion of dictatorial authority; a characteristic of 
his nature Margaret’s admiring eyes had before 
told her was genius. 


The Address and Marriage. 


25 


She now concluded that he had used this power 
to discourage and subdue her ambition. “He re- 
fuses to hear my best efforts, but yet always com- 
pliments my ability. He is seeking to dictate to 
me the course of life I shall pursue. Strange, that 
I never thought of this before. I might have 
known it if I had given more attention to his 
actions and less to his handsome face. However, 
I am yet free. I will tell him of my love for Aus- 
tin and that will touch his pride. He will severely 
censure me, but he will not ask a woman to marry 
him when she loves another better.” Feeling that 
she had solved this difficult problem, she went 
down stairs. Mr. and Mrs. Moreley were just 
starting out for a drive and she gladly accepted 
the invitation to go with them. 

When commencement week had passed and all 
her old friends had gone away, there was little 
there to interest her, and she, too, wanted to 
leave. When she promised Grace to stay she 
thought that she and Austin would have a few 
days of undisturbed pleasure, but he was sud- 
denly called away by the illness of his father and 
left without a parting word to her. She was so 
disappointed that every effort to entertain others 
seemed but a mockery, and in this unsatisfied con- 
dition she left the Moreleys and returned home. 






CHAPTER III. 


THE ACCIDENT. 

On a September morning, more than two 
months after Margaret returned home, Mr. Blan- 
den said to his wife, “It is only a few weeks until 
our school begins and Frank and I will have to 
begin doing up the chores that will have to be 
done before he starts. I want dinner earlier than 
common to-day; we are going to the mill this 
afternoon.” 

“I will see that you are off on time if that will 
hurry things along, for Pm sure I want Frank to 
start to school the very first day. I am tired 
enough of his noise and dirt.” 

“Don’t speak so harshly of him; he already 
thinks he is not wanted in the house, and spends 
considerable time unnecessarily out of doors. He 
told me just yesterday that he was lonesome when 
not busy at work on the farm, and persuaded me 
to buy some tools that he might employ his idle 
time.” 

“I do not send him out of the house, neither do 


28 


She Wanted to Vote. 


I compel him to stay there when he is not at 
work.” 

“No, but you tell him, when he is about the 
house, that he is a noisy, careless, dirty boy, and 
not in any way particular, like Margaret. He 
is now nearly sixteen years old, and such harsh 
words sting him deeply ; and, rather than be con- 
tinually reminded of his bad qualities and Mar- 
garet’s good ones, he stays out of the house. I 
tell you, mother, it is not the way to treat him. 
He has thus far been a good boy and has the same 
right to 1 the use and enjoyments of our home that 
Margaret does.” 

“You seem to forget how much I do for him. 
Don’t I do his sewing and wash and iron for him ? 
Yes — and didn’t I get him a pair of fine patent 
leather shoes and a new style hat after you had 
refused to do so?” 

“That is all well enough, but you know you 
are prejudiced against boys, and that sometimes 
causes you to be very impatient with him. I 
sometimes wonder that you ever married a man.” 

Frank was waiting at the door with the 
wagon and team, and when his father came out 
they drove over to Zimri Stark’s, who owned and 
lived upon the adjoining farm, to buy a few bush- 
els of a new kind of wheat. 


The Accident. 


29 


Mrs. Blanden was astonished at her hus- 
band’s words. It was not his habit to censure- her 
so severely for anything, and she wondered why 
he had done so at this time. “I do not under- 
stand why I am thus rebuked,” she said to her- 
self. “Frank is my child he same as his. I love 
him and care for him and I expect to exercise my 
right to control him. Boys are rough and care- 
less and it does not suit me to have them around 
the house always in the way. That’s what he calls 
prejudice. I expect to send him to college and 
give him the same opportunities that Margaret 
has had; and would have done so this year, but 
Mr. Blanden insisted that he was too young and 
that he wanted him at home another year or two. 
As he controls the finances I had to submit to his 
will. Some people think I unduly encourage Mar- 
garet to take an interest in public work, but I 
think it is time that women were educated to earn 
and control their own money. I will assist and 
encourage her to be an independent woman. I 
do not want her to be forced to wait to execute 
her plans until some man sees fit to furnish her 
the money.” 

Margaret had been writing her final letter to 
Roy Stanley, and, having finished it, she went to 
the kitchen to assist her mother. 


30 


She Wanted to Vote. 


“Have you written that letter, Margaret ?” 
inquired her mother. “And what did you tell 
him?” 

“I told him that I would promise no man to 
give up all public work. That the man who 
sought me for his companion must permit me to 
use my own judgment as to' the employment of my 
time — that he must certainly give me the same 
privileges he will take. I expressed an earnest 
wish that he would some time find his ideal wo- 
man, and thanked him kindly for releasing me 
from the engagement.” 

“Did you tell him of your confidence in and 
respect for Austin Lokeridge?” 

“No. He told me if I could not agree to give 
up public work for a quiet home life that it was 
better that our engagement be broken, and that 
he would consider it so if I did not make $uch an 
agreement. This I will not do. He imagines I 
will be a stump speaker or a foreign missionary, 
but this delusion makes my release easier and I 
will not correct it. His determination to control 
me now would lead to absolute tyranny, should I 
yield to him, and I will never do it.” 

“You should not make hasty conclusions in 
this matter,” said her mother. “However, I do 
not think you would be very agreeably mated; 


The Accident. 


31 


but position and intellect are to be considered as 
well as love.” 

“I could love none but a man of intelligence, 
and with that we can gain position.” 

“My aim in life has been to give you such edu- 
cation as would enable you to do something for 
downtrodden women, and I shall feel that my 
labor is lost if you are wholly satisfied with the 
work of housekeeping. It is a lifetime employ- 
ment that represents nothing but hard work and 
a submission to the will of others.” 

“Not so bad as that, Mother. I can imagine 
things more unpleasant than taking care of a 
home for the man I love.” 

“Don’t allow yourself to think the home that 
Austin Lokeridge will provide will be a little para- 
dise. He is nothing but a young doctor with a 
small income and but little notoriety, much less 
of both than Roy Stanley.” 

This antagonized Margaret, and she replied, 
sarcastically, “It is decided that I will never be 
Mrs. Roy Stanley and shall therefore enjoy none 
of his large income nor his little heart — a mere 
atom compared with the large, generous heart of 
Austin Lokeridge.” 

Mrs. Blanden was not anxious for another 
man to be added to their family, and to have a 


32 


She Wanted to Vote. 


young' doctor for a son-in-law, with but little 
money, and his reputation to make, seemed wholly 
unbearable. But she knew Margaret’s disposition 
was a very determined one, and she decided to say 
but little against her plans. When she consented 
to Margaret’s engagement to Roy Stanley, she 
believed the political prominence of the Stanleys 
would give her a position which would hasten the 
time when she would be in the political field 
bravely defending the rights of woman. This 
earnest desire of Mrs. Blanden was not an un- 
pleasant thought to Margaret. She had been 
taught, from early childhood, that women were 
not protected by the laws of the country and 
never would be until they were allowed to vote. 
With these principles instilled in her mind, and 
with a limited experience in public speaking, it 
was not strange that she entertained a vague hope 
that she might sometime proclaim to the world 
her ideas of woman’s ability to fill any sphere to 
which her education and inclinations might direct 
her. 

During their conversation they had been busy 
at work, and when Mr. Blanden and Frank came 
in a good wholesome dinner awaited them. “Did 
you get the wheat you wanted, Father?” inquired 
Margaret as they sat down to the table. 


The Accident. 


33 


“Yes/’ said he, “and if we get home from mill 
in time, I want you to try your hand on some bis- 
cuit for supper.” 

“Zimri Stark is an honest man, but so partic- 
ular,” said Frank. “The price of wheat, such as 
Father wanted, has gone up, and the girl that 
lives there didn’t know it, and when he told us his 
price, she said, ‘that is more than you have been 
getting,’ and he told her to keep still when he was 
talking, that she did not know anything about 
prices, and would cause people to think he was 
trying to cheat them.” 

“He did right in correcting Katherine,” said 
his mother. “Children ought to keep still when 
older people are talking.” 

“There is no use being so painfully particu- 
lar,” growled Frank. “We never thought of his 
cheating us, and neither did Katy.” 

“You need not show so much sympathy for 
her,” said his mother. “She is nothing to you. 
Besides, they are neither our neighbors nor our 
friends; we only have a business relation with 
them and their peculiarities are of no concern to 
us. Just let them do as they please.” 

“Katy Barker is as good a girl as there was 
in school last winter, and I like her, if you don’t,” 
defiantly said Frank. 


34 


She Wanted to Vote. 


Mr. Blanden and Margaret smiled, but the 
mother was so provoked she could only knot up 
her face and frown. The situation embarrassed 
Frank, and in the confusion he accidentally turned 
his cup over, spilling the coffee on a clean table 
cloth, and in his effort to catch his cup he knocked 
the milk pitcher off on the floor. This was be- 
yond the endurance of Mrs. Blanden, and she 
grabbed the glass of milk sitting by his plate and 
threw it in his face, saying, “It’s no use trying to 
teach a big, awkward boy any manners, and until 
you can be more careful you may eat your meals 
in the kitchen by yourself/’ 

“I am sorry for my awkwardness, mother, but 
it was an accident,” said Frank, as he left the 
house. 

“Go along with your father; I don’t want to 
hear any excuse for such conduct,” replied his 
mother, as she was mopping up the milk from 
the floor. 

Margaret was standing in the door as her 
father and Frank drove by, and when she saw 
they were driving a large team of pretty bay 
horses, which she knew were very spirited, she 
called to her father, saying : 

“Good-bye, father ; be careful and watch those 
horses, and don’t let them hurt you.” 


The Accident. 


35 


“Can’t you trust your father to drive to mill, 
when he has been used to driving so long?” said 
Mrs. Blanden. “The man who owns the mill is 
talking of buying the team, and father thought 
he might make the sale.” 

“I wish he would sell them and leave them 
there. I have no use for such fractious horses.” 

“It’s no use to say anything; men will do as 
they please.” 

“Have you ever asked him to sell the team, 
mother ?” 

“No, but you have several times, and it has 
done no good. He will not sell ’til he gets ready.” 

“Until he gets a buyer, you mean. I do> not 
believe father would purposely do anything to 
worry us.” 

They finished their dinner work and went to 
the sitting room, where Mrs. Blanden took her 
knitting and had Margaret read to her from the 
“History cf Great Women.” They became so 
interested in the book that it was after four 
o’clock before they noticed the time. They were 
commenting on what they had read and upon the 
intelligence of woman, and Mrs. Blanden was 
just saying, “There is no sensible reason for a 
woman depending upon a man for her support, 


36 


She Wanted to Vote . 


or as her representative in politics. I don’t 
see ” 

“Oh! Come quick,” called the farm hand at 
the door. “Mr. Blanden’s team is running away. 
See them ! Yonder they come raging and foam- 
ing. I will run and meet them.” 
t “O, mother, there is no one in the wagon.” 

“Go quick, Margaret, and see if you can see 
them,” said Mrs. Blanden, who was so overcome 
by the shock that she was unable to walk. 

Margaret ran toward the horses just as they 
were approaching a bridge across a little ravine 
near the barn. Her sudden appearance added 
to their fright and they missed the bridge in the 
road and plunged into the hollow beneath, seri- 
ously injuring both of them. By this time the 
hired man had found Mr. Blanden and Frank. 
They had been thrown from the wagon as they 
turned a corner less than half a mile from the 
house. Mr. Blanden was dead. Frank was sit- 
ting beside him with one arm broken and his 
body badly bruised. Margaret soon came to 
where they were and fell on her knees beside them, 
crying, “Oh! My God! have pity on us.” 

The hired man scarcely knew what to do. 
He looked in every direction for help. Fortu- 


The Accident. 


37 


nately it was near at hand, for it was only a few 
minutes until a man came riding by on horse- 
back. The hired man threw up his hands and 
signaled him to stop, saying: “Pray, sir, will 
you go to Dayton at once and send us a doctor.” 

“I will,” said the stranger, “if you will shell 
out a good sum; I am Gabriel Hester and I 
never do anything without pay.” 

“I have no money with me, but for Heaven’s 
sake go quick and I will see that you are paid 
for your trouble.” 

“My time is worth too much for that, sir,” 
said he. “But that’s a right decent looking man 
laying down there. I wouldn’t wonder if he’s 
not pretty well heeled. I’ll go for five dollars 
cash and have the neighbors and the doctor here 
in less than half an hour.” 

By this time Margaret understood the situa- 
tion and told the hired man to search her father’s 
pockets and get the money if possible. He did 
so, and found the money, which the man coolly 
accepted and hurriedly rode away. It was only 
a very short time until the neighbors gathered 
and helped them take Mr. Blanden and Frank 
to the house. Mrs. Blanden apprehended serious 
trouble when she saw them coming, and when 


38 


She Wanted to Vote. 


the hired man gently told her that Mr. Blanden 
was dead and that Frank was seriously hurt she 
became frantic. She talked of her husband’s 
kindness, what a good companion he had been, 
of Frank’s never-ending carelessness and about 
an administrator all in the same moment. Some 
thought she would lose her mind, while others 
said it was an excited nervous condition which 
would leave her as soon as she became more rec- 
onciled to her husband’s death. The doctor soon 
came, and O, how welcome his presence. Frank 
was lying on the bed in a half conscious condi- 
tion, beseeching them to* do something for his 
father, and wnen the doctor went to his bedside 
he said, “Go to my father first and see if he is 
not yet alive. Let me die and save him. O, my 
father! My best friend.” 

To satisfy him the very kind physician went 
to his father. He knew he was dead, and soon 
discovered that his death was caused from inter- 
nal injuries. He quietly returned to Frank and 
had him under the influence of anesthetics before 
he knew what was to be done. He set the broken 
bone in his arm, and upon further examination 
found his body was badly bruised. He appre- 
hended danger, but did not express himself to 
any one. He remained with Frank until he saw 


The Accident . 


39 


that he was able to take a little sleep, and when 
satisfied that his real condition was not so dan- 
gerous as he at first suspected he left him in the 
care of friends. 




CHAPTER IV. 


THE BURIAL. 

The people of the neighborhood were very- 
kind to Mrs. Blanden, and in this solemn hour 
of death she gratefully accepted their assistance 
without regard to the strained relations which 
had previously existed. Her spirit was crushed 
by this unexpected sorrow. For more than fifty- 
three years she had been protected from danger 
and shielded from the actual responsibilities of 
life by either a father or a husband; and now, in 
the deepest trouble she had ever known, she was 
left alone to seek comfort for herself and chil- 
dren. She realized for the first time what it was 
to bear affliction without the supporting sym- 
pathy of true, courageous manhood. Her heart 
swelled within her bosom, her breathing was 
suppressed and the awful agony of her deep 
grief was shown by the nervous paroxysms of her 
whole body. The fortitude she had seemed to pos- 
sess vanished with her departed husband, and the 
proud, independent woman who had often 


42 


She Wanted to Vote. 


scorned the idea of dependence upon man 
thankfully accepted helpi from the good men 
whom she had hitherto declined to recognize as 
neighbors. Zimri Stark, whose uncouth man- 
ner had brought many words of censure and ridi- 
cule from the lips of Mrs. Blanden, was among 
the first to offer his assistance, and no more faith- 
ful help was found than he proved to be. 

“I just ’lowed you’d need somebody to help 
look after things about the house,” he remarked 
to Mrs. Blanden, “and I fetched Katy over for 
that purpose. She’s a powerful sight of help 
about cookin’. In fact she can turn her hand to 
purty nigh anything.” 

“You may send her to me,” sobbed Mrs. 
Blanden, with a heart yearning for some one 
to be near her. It was only a moment until 
Katy timidly approached the couch where she 
was lying and the poor distressed woman reached 
out her hand and drew her to a chair close be- 
side her. Katy was an orphan girl, and knew T 
the heartaches and bitter despair of living with- 
out dear friends. For some time she held Mrs. 
Blanden’s trembling hands and rubbed her ach- 
ing head with the tenderness and affection of 
one who gives deepest sympathy. This mani- 
festation of an affectionate nature and a willing- 


The Burial. 


43 


ness to share her sorrow had a quieting influ- 
ence over Mrs. Blanden, and Margaret insisted 
that Katy should remain, for a time, with her 
mother. All day and night she was a faith- 
ful attendant and the next morning, as the hour 
for the funeral drew near and nearer, she spared 
no pains to comfort her. When the clock struck 
ten, the singers, whom Margaret had secured 
from Bridgetown, sang in the most beautiful har- 
mony favorite selections of Mr. Blanden. To 
Mrs. Blanden their plaintive music was like the 
voice of angels luring away the spirit of one she 
loved; and, had not the burden of her sorrow 
been lightened by the profusion of tears and the 
loving little attentions of Katy, she would have 
sunk under the weight of this trial. Katy’s un- 
selfish, child-like sympathy made her an honest 
comforter. She was faithful to duty until the 
lifeless form of Mr. Blanden was carried from 
the house and borne to its last resting place. 
Margaret, however, did not want Katy to ac- 
company them away from the house and made 
the excuse that she wished her to remain with 
the lady who was to stay with Frank. What- 
ever motive prompted Margaret’s action was 
hidden, but the arrangement proved very agree- 
able to Katy. The lady was a timid, sympathetic: 


44 


She Wanted to Vote . 


little soul who could not endure Frank’s moan- 
ing cries, and she very soon called to Katy and 
asked her to take charge of him. This oppor- 
tunity was accepted with a heartfelt gratitude; 
and she was not alone with him long until she 
applied cool cloths to his aching head and drops 
of water to his hot lips. 

When he opened his eyes and saw it was 
Katy Barker administering to his needs he said, 
, in broken, sorrowful tones, “I am so glad you 
are here. Won’t you stay ’til I get well ?” 

“If I can,” she softly replied, for she never 
made plans without first consulting her Uncle 
Zimri. She talked as little as possible, and so earn- 
estly persuaded him to be quiet that he at last fell 
asleep and slept quietly until Mrs. Blanden and 
Margaret returned. 

In that community, the grave yard was for 
the rich and the poor alike. It was not con- 
trolled by a board of directors nor kept by a 
paid sexton, but all the graves were given, dug 
and kept in order by the voluntary work of the 
citizens. Zimri Stark was one who bore his 
full share of this philanthropic work. He was 
very conscientious about everything he did, but 
even more painstaking when working for the 
dead. Long after Mrs. Blanden and Margaret 


The Burial. 


45 * 


left the graveyard he remained patting down 
the earth and cleaning up around the grave. He 
never faltered until everything was in order, and 
it was very late in the afternoon when he re- 
turned to the Blanden home. 

“I just stopped in,” said he, “to see how you 
come on and to get Katy.” Neither Mrs. Blanden 
nor Margaret wanted him to take Katy, and 
Mrs. Blanden remarked, “We will be so very 
lonely if she leaves us tonight.” 

“Very well, very well,” said he, arising to 
go, “she can just stay with you a spell. I will 
come for her and fetch her home as soon as 
Frank mends.” 

The first opportunity Katy had after he was- 
gone she went to Frank, smiling, and said in a 
cheerful, girlish way, “I can stay here for sev- 
eral days; Uncle said I might.” 

“I cannot tell you how glad I am to have 
you stay,” he remarked. 

“Never mind now, you may tell me that 
when you get well. I am sure that with our 
nursing that will not be long.” 

These kind words so freely spoken were 
“balm to his soul,” and he turned his face from 
her that she might not see his tears of joy for 
her presence. Mrs. Blanden and Margaret were 


46 


She Wanted to Vote . 


too much exhausted to take charge of Frank that 
evening, and Katy watched beside him until 
about midnight, when he became quiet and could 
sleep. As the days passed, Mrs. Blanden gradu- 
ally assumed full care of Frank; and, under Mar- 
garet’s direction, Katy was sent to the kitchen. 
She now had no chance to talk with him, and 
only saw him when she carried his meals to the 
door for Mrs. Blanden. Frank was very un- 
happy without Katy’s company. He grew rest- 
less and did not improve so rapidly as when the 
thought of his misfortune was dispelled by her 
cheerful presence. Often in his sleep he would 
speak her name, but that only made a greater 
barrier between them, for it was an evidence 
to Margaret that he was more concerned about 
Katy Barker than they cared for him to be. He 
did not disclose to his mother and sister the real 
cause of his restlessness, because he well knew 
their disdainful feeling toward the Stark family 
and feared they would send Katy home. 

On Saturday morning, ten days after the 
death of Mr. Blanden, Margaret and Katy were 
sweeping leaves from the door yard when Zimri 
Stark halted at the gate long enough to inquire 
about the condition of the family, and to say to 


The Burial. 


47 


Katy, “I am going to town this morning and 
will stop for you on my way back.” 

Katy was always obedient, and very promptly 
replied, “I will be ready.” She felt that she must 
see Frank and talk with him before she left the 
house, and wondered how an opportunity could 
be secured in so short a time. The enforced 
secrecy of her innocent desire to see Frank led to 
some harmless plotting against Mrs. Blanden and 
Margaret. She thought of different excuses she 
might offer, but before her plans were executed 
she would discover a defect that would cause de- 
feat. She worried over this problem until noon, 
but reached no conclusion. When they were 
seated at the table she saw the hired man coming 
toward the house. She knew that he was her 
friend; and, hurriedly acting under the impulse 
of the moment, she took the pitcher from the 
table and met him at the well. 

“Uncle is coming for me this afternoon, and 
I must see Frank before I leave,” she excitedly 
explained. “Can’t you help me?” 

Katy was in a great hurry to get back to the 
table with the water and could not wait to talk 
with him ; but as he was nearing the bachelor age, 
his experience in matters of this kind gave him- 
self confidence, and without reflection he said, 


48 


She Wanted to Vote. 


“Never mind, Katy, it’ll be all O. K. I’ll fix 
some scheme to ketch the old woman and that 
self-important blue stocking,” meaning Margaret, 
“who’s already trying to run everything ’round 
here.” 

No more was said about it, but while he was 
eating his dinner he was also devising a plan 
that would give Katy and Frank a few moments 
for a friendly interview. When he left the table 
he said to Mrs. Blanden. “The agent will be at 
the barn at half past one to see about the cutting 
box he left for Mr. Blanden to try, and I want 
you and Margaret to come out at that time and 
decide about taking it. Don’t fail.” 

For a moment they made no reply. Then 
Margaret said, “We must not shrink' 1 from a little 
task like this. We shall be compelled to look 
after such matters as long as we remain on the 
farm.” 

“I am willing to try, Margaret, but I find it 
very hard to look after matters your father at- 
tended to for so long.” 

“It is business now, mother, not sentiment, 
and a woman of your power must not be afraid 
of a little business transaction. Come, we are 
to be there by half past one.” They went to the 
barn as requested and looked at the cutting box 


The Burial. 


49 


and different pieces of machinery. They had 
waited nearly half an hour and Margaret was 
becoming very impatient with the tardy agent. 
She walked to the door and saw no one coming 
but “Old Zimri Stark,” as she called him, and 
said, “I will have to go now and see Katy off.” 

“Wait,” said the hired man, “I will call him 
in; it may be he can help you settle the mat- 
ter.” 

Zimri was obliging, tied his horse, went into 
the barn and carefully looked at the box. “What 
do you think of it, Mr. Stark ? Do you think it 
a good one?” Mrs. Blanden inquired. 

“It’s a good one, first class,” he replied; “it 
is just like one I have, and what every good 
farmer needs.” 

“We know very little about the utility of 
farming implements,” said Mrs. Blanden. “We 
had no occasion to look after such things while 
father lived.” 

“Women folks have enough to do to look after 
their housework without trying to run the barn,” 
he said in a consoling way, “and I think the best 
thing you could do is to have an honest business 
sort of a man appointed administrator and get 
yourself rid of business you know nothing 
about.” 


50 


She Wanted to Vote. 


“We know perhaps more than you give us 
credit for,” said Margaret sharply. “Besides, 
we are women who are very capable of learning, 
and I assure you we will soon be able to attend 
to our own business.” 

“Very well, very well,” said Zimri, “I was 
jest givin’ you a bit of neighborly advice that 
many a widder has been glad to get.” 

“We appreciate your good intention,” said 
Margaret, “but I want it understood that we pre- 
fer to manage our own business affairs.” 

Zimri thought this an impudent way for her 
to talk to a man of his judgment and years. He 
winced, cleared his throat and tried not to ex- 
press himself, but he could not refrain from say- 
ing to her, “I think you have a powerful sight 
more book lamin’, young lady, than practical 
sense, and if you be too confoundedly strong 
minded to take any advice from an old experi- 
enced farmer like myself you’ll just have to pad- 
dle your own canoe, but I’ll jist say to you now, 
that women folks can’t get along very easy by 
themselves.” 

With this remark Zimri left, and the hired 
man told Margaret and Mrs. Blanden that they 
could go to the house and help Katy get ready 
to go home ; and he would call them if the agent 


The Burial. 


51 


came. When -they had gone he laughed heartily 
over his successful scheme, and when he saw 
Katy riding away behind her uncle he waved his 
hand triumphantly to her. 

Katy and Frank had spent the time pleasantly 
together, their youthful hearts throbbed with 
pleasure and their countenances were lighted with 
joy. When Mrs. Blanden returned to Frank's 
room she was surprised to see the change in his 
appearance, but Margaret’s inquiry about the 
mail diverted her attention and she asked no 
questions. In that community it was customary 
for the neighbor going to the postoffice to bring 
back the mail for all the near neighbors ; and, in 
compliance with this custom, Zimri had brought 
their mail and left it in a box at the gate. When 
Margaret examined the mail she found a letter 
from Austin Lockeridge and one addressed to 
her father from an attorney at Bridgetown, 
stating that the mortgage of five hundred dollars 
on the property he had recently purchased on 
Broadway would be closed the first of the year 
if not satisfied. This nonplussed Margaret and, 
for a moment, she hesitated to tell her mother, 
but as there was no other way out of the diffi- 
culty, she handed her the letter. 

This information was a great surprise to Mrs. 


52 


She Wanted to Vote . 


Blanden. She had no knowledge of the purchase 
of any property in Bridgetown, and could not 
understand it. “What shall we do, Margaret ?” 
she said, in an appealing tone. 

“We will first learn what is necessary to be 
done. Dr. Lokeridge writes that he is coming 
next week, and we will counsel with him before 
we take any action.” 


CHAPTER V. 


THE DISCOVERY. 

The Blanden home was a large country resi- 
dence, built on elevated ground, some distance 
from the road, and surrounded by a large yard 
which was beautified by shade trees, ornamental 
trees of different kinds and beds of choice flow- 
ers. In this beautiful month of October, when 
the orchard was ladened with fruit and the trees 
were clothed in the splendor of autumnal beauty, 
it was an exceptionally attractive homestead. 
The quiet enchantment of the surroundings and 
the restful influences of nature impressed Mar- 
garet with the thought that Doctor Lokeridge 
could not have chosen a better time to visit her 
at their country home. She had never appreci- 
ated the beauty of the place, and was always far 
more willing to conceal the fact that she lived in 
the country than to speak of its beauties ; but that 
morning, when she and Frank started to the sta- 
tion to meet the Doctor, she had a feeling of pride 
that she could invite him away from his profes- 


54 


She Wanted to Vote. 


sional cares and the rush and hurry of city life 
to the quietude of her country home. 

When they had gone Mrs. Blanden was en- 
tirely alone for the first time since her husband’s 
death. It was not a new thing for her to stay 
alone, for she had spent many hours by herself 
when the children were at school and her hus- 
band was at work on the farm, but conditions now 
were different. Then she expected the coming 
of her husband, but now she knew his well-known 
foot-step would be heard no more. She sat down 
by the window and looked out upon the familiar 
scenes, and could see the work of her husband all 
about her. The dying flowers and falling leaves 
seemed to her but the destruction of what he had 
done. Her troubled heart was so deeply wounded 
by this scene that she left the window and for 
some time wandered dreamily through the house, 
seemingly in search of something to satisfy her 
longing for the companionship she had had so 
many years. Vain were her efforts, and, realiz- 
ing a weariness from walking, she seated herself 
at his desk and began to peruse his private papers. 
Here she felt a nearness to him that in a measure 
quieted her. While examining the contents of 
his desk she opened a large pocketbook, where 
she found the deed to the farm, his tax receipts 


The Discovery. 


56 


and other valuable papers. She had folded the 
pocketbook and placed it in the drawer where she 
found it when she was attracted by a clean new 
paper carefully folded and placed beneath the 
other papers. Lifting it from the drawer to read 
it, she was astonished to find it a deed made to 
her for a certain piece of property in Bridgetown, 
which she had so often expressed a desire to pur- 
chase for a city residence. 

“What does this mean?” she said to herself. 
“I have no knowledge of Mr. Blanden buying 
property there. Can it be that he bought this 
property and intended to make this deed my birth- 
day present next week? Perhaps he inteneded to 
gratify the wish of Margaret and me to leave the 
farm.” 

Looking farther, she found a receipt in full 
for the balance of the purchase money, which had 
been secured by a note and mortgage. This re- 
ceipt was signed by the man of whom Mr. Blan- 
den had bought the property, with a memorandum 
cn the margin stating that the note and mortgage 
were in the hands of his attorney. “I am sure 
there is no mistake,” she said as if to assure her- 
self. 

She could no longer endure the intense nerve 
tension of feeling that she was in the very pres- 


56 


She Wanted to Vote. 


ence of her husband and yet unable to speak to 
him, and fell to the floor in an almost uncon- 
scious condition. Fortunately it was only a short 
time until Margaret and Frank returned from the 
station with Doctor Lokeridge. They were 
shocked to find their mother in such a state of 
prostration, and in great anxiety they asked in 
one voice, “What is the matter, mother?” 

“Tell us, mother; can’t you speak?” said 
Frank. 

“Yes,” she replied, nervously. 

Doctor Lokeridge was called immediately to 
her. He gave her a stimulant and, with the at- 
tention of both physician and lover, talked to her 
until she recovered from the prostration and ex- 
citement. Margaret observed the open desk and 
private papers belonging to her father, and she 
immediately concluded that her mother had made 
some alarming discovery about their business. 
This was a depressing thought to one of her am- 
bition, and she took up the deed and eagerly read 
it. Although she did not express any feeling, the 
Doctor’s close observation detected that she was 
greatly agitated. She could not understand it 
all ; but, with an air of business, she handed him 
the deed with the letter which they had just re- 
ceived from the attorney at Bridgetown and 


The Discovery. 


57 


asked, “What do you think best for us to do?” 

After he had carefully read the papers he said, 
“I will write to Mr. Blanden’s lawyer, if you 
wish, and have him examine the records. Be- 
sides, he may know something about the prop- 
erty.” 

Mrs. Blanden was glad that the Doctor so 
kindly offered to look into the matter, and Mar- 
garet did not object, although she felt confident 
she could do it as well herself. 

“What property are you talking about?” in- 
quired Frank. “Had father bought that prop- 
erty in Bridetown that you and Margaret had 
been urging him to buy?” 

“I think he had,” replied Margaret. “This 
deed we have been examining is a deed to the 
Glenwood place on Broadway, and made to 
mother.” 

“He didn’t buy it because he wanted to live 
in it,” said Frank, who always opposed the 
thought of leaving the farm. “You just tor- 
mented him to it.” 

“You don’t know what father intended to do 
with the property,” replied Margaret. “I am 
sure it is a very desirable place to live.” 

“Well, I don’t want to move there.” 


58 


She Wanted to Vote. 


“Never mind, Frank,” said his mother, “we 
are not ready to decide that question now.” 

Her pale face and unusually pathetic voice 
touched his feelings and the manhood of his youth 
was aroused to a sense of duty to shield his 
mother from unnecessary worry, and, for the 
moment, he paused in quiet reflection. They 
were all impressed that they would soon leave 
the old homestead, and this thought momentarily 
saddened them into silence. 

The Doctor, wishing to be entertaining, re- 
marked, “You have a very beautiful home here, 
I would think you would all be loth to leave it.” 

“It is good enough for me,” said Frank, “but 
Margaret thinks she’s too high born to live here 
in the country. She wants to live in the city 
and keep servants so she won’t have anything to 

do but read and write and go to clubs and ” 

“Frank, you certainly forget yourself,” inter- 
rupted Mrs. Blanden, who was sorely pained by 
his rude manner of expressing himself. He was 
humiliated by her rebuke, and really did not mean 
to speak ill of his sister before the Doctor, for he 
was greatly pleased with him. Margaret was 
very much embarrassed by his remarks, for she 
knew better than all others that it was not wholly 
false. While she was ambitious to move in the 


The Discovery. 


69 


society of city life, she did not want the Doctor 
unfavorably impressed as to her inclination and 
ability to associate with all classes of people and 
to perform common household duties. She 
wished to satisfy his heart with every admirable 
trait of character he sought in a woman. She 
believed he had confidence in her, and beseech- 
ingly looking into his face said, “I hope Frank’s 
insinuation will not lead you to conclude that I 
have no higher conception of life than ease and 
amusement” 

Frank’s words had made a deeper impression 
than could be immediately eradicated, and, not 
wishing to be dishonest with her, he evasively 
replied, “Boys are given to extravagant express- 
ions. I guess your brother does not believe his 
own statements.” 

Frank was indisposed to discuss the question 
and made no reply, as the Doctor had hoped he 
would do; but his honest, matter-of-fact way of 
making the statement had carried a conviction tq 
the Doctor that was not altogether pleasing. If 
Doctor Lokeridge had a fear about Margaret 
making an ideal wife for him, it was that she 
would find more pleasure in a social or literary 
life than in the care of his home, and Frank’s un- 
timely remark only strengthened this fear. He 


She Wanted to Vote . 


'60 

was not a wealthy man, but was established in 
his profession. His practice was rapidly becom- 
ing more extended and his income was sufficient 
to justify him in choosing a companion and estab- 
lishing a home for himself. But he realized that 
in making this choice he must also find a help- 
meet. However, as the time passed, and they 
were alone together, she became more and more 
agreeable to him. His heart was full of love, and 
•every shadow of distrust in her fidelity to the in- 
terests of their domestic happiness was lifted from 
his soul, and he determined to settle the question 
of their engagement and marriage before return- 
ing to the city. 


CHAPTER VI. 


THE OUTING. 

Margaret had planned to spend the last da y 
before the Doctor returned to his practice at 
Bridgetown with her cousin, Agnes Shirley, who. 
lived a distance of ten miles away, near the Wa- 
bash river. The day was bright and clear, and 
the warm sunshine made it an ideal time for the 
last outing of the season. Margaret thought of 
a picnic, but she was not wholly pleased with the 
idea of taking her cousin and having a company 
of three; but when they reached her cousin's 
home and found that Ralph Brown was visiting 
there, she quickly suggested her plan for the day. 
They were all pleased with it and decided to take 
their dinner and picnic on the banks of the Wa- 
bash. Very naturally, when they reached their 
picnic grounds they separated in companies of 
two. It was a delightful place for the Doctor 
and Margaret to reveal to each other the most 
precious sentiment of their souls. The song of 
the birds, the rippling streams and the manifold 


She Wanted to Vote. 


beauties of nature each lent a charm to grace the 
whispers of love that fell from their lips. They 
sat beneath the shade of a large tree beside a little 
stream that emptied into the river, and as they 
gazed into the limpid water murmuring at their 
feet, they agreed to take the day’s experience as 
indicative of their future. 

“I have loved you long and fondly,” he said 
with a gentle pressure of the hand, “and the en- 
couragement you gave me at our last commence- 
ment gave me new courage. When I went there 
my only object was that of meeting you, although 
I had but little hope, for I thought you preferred 
another to myself.” 

“Your true friendship and generous nature 
won my admiration,” she earnestly replied, “and 
I have learned that my confidence in you exceeds 
that of any other.” 

“In this secluded spot of nature’s garden I 
feel that we are near the Hand that designed its 
marvelous beauty, and, if I knew He could hear 
my voice, I would not hesitate to tell you that I 
love you dearly, and if you will promise to be my 
wife it will be my highest purpose in life to make 
you happy.” 

For a moment she was silent, and with a heart 
throbbing impatiently for an answer to his ques- 






“ I will promise you.” (p. 63.) 





The Outing. 


63 


tion, he said, “Is it because you do not love me, 
Margaret, that you fail to make an answer?” 

“No,” she thoughtfully replied. “You are 
the only man I have ever met who is worthy of 
a woman’s love.” 

“If your love for me is equal to your confi- 
dence, I beg of you to give me an answer and let 
me know my fate.” 

“I will promise you,” she answered softly. 

Grasping her hands and looking into her dark 
brown eyes, he said, in a voice betokening an 
earnest prayer of the heart, “May it be our aim in 
life to make each other happy, and may our hearts 
be so united that we shall share the burdens of life 
as united streams bear the ripple of the water. 

“I shall hope to be to you all that you antici- 
pate.” 

While thus confidentially talking they were 
disturbed by the appearance of a small steamboat 
slowly coming up the river. As it came near 
to their view they saw among the passengers their 
old classmate, Roy Stanley. He had recognized 
Margaret as the boat approached them, and to 
make it known he waved his hand and threw a 
small package toward her. It did not light on 
the shore but struck the bank and fell back into 
the water. Curious to know its contents, they 


64 


She Wanted to Vote. 


followed it down the stream, making their way 
along the bank through weeds and bushes, across 
deep ravines and over fallen timbers until it 
floated near the shore and lodged on some drift- 
wood. Her determination and anxiety to know 
how Roy had remembered her led her to walk a 
greater distance than she realized. She was so 
animated by the race that what little caution she 
had seemed to have all left her when they came 
so close to the treasure that he was able to reach 
it with a long pole. Disregarding the Doctor’s 
warning of danger, she ventured closer and 
closer to the water as he drew the package to the 
shore. 

“We will capture the prize now,” she exult- 
ingly exclaimed, as he drew it to the edge of the 
water. 

“Wfe must not call it ours until we get it in 
our possession,” he replied. 

Another effort and it leaned against the bank, 
and, thinking it within her reach, she exclaimed, 
as she eagerly grabbed for it, “I have it now.” 

True, she grasped it in her hand, but in the 
suddenness of her effort, she lost her balance and 
fell into the water. What moments of horror 
for Doctor Lokeridge ! There she was drowning 
in his very presence. “It must not be,” he cried. 


The Outing. 


65 


“He shall not separate us. If I cannot save her 
we will die together.” 

With matchless courage he plunged into the 
deep, dark water, and when she arose the second 
time he threw his arm around her and brought 
her to the shore. When he had carried her to 
the land he became faint from his violent effort 
to save her life and feebly cried for help, hoping 
that Agnes and Ralph would hear him. Although 
he was too weak to raise his voice loud enough 
for them to locate him, he attracted the attention 
of an old man who was wandering through the 
woods hunting herbs. He was only a few steps 
away, and very quickly came to the Doctor’s 
relief. An accident of this kind was not an un- 
usual occurrence to this old man. He turned her 
farther on her face and depressed the tongue in 
order to favor the escape of the water and to 
relieve her of any other substance that would 
obstruct the entrance of air to the lungs. 

“By Christopher !” said he, “she’s as cold as 
a wagon tire. She’d a been gone up in a few 
minutes if I hadn’t got here. I’ll call the old 
woman to fetch some bed clothes.” “Peggie! 
Peggie!” he called until the response came. 

“Here I am Pap, what do you want?” 

“Come out here to the tree hit by lightin’, and 


66 


She Wanted to Vote. 


come quick, and bring the brown flannen blanket 
and the red-topped comfort.” Looking into Mar- 
garet’s face, as he continued to rub her, he said, 
“ ’Pears to me I’ve seed that face before, but 
where it was I can’t tell.” 

It was only a short distance to the cabin where 
they lived and Peggie was by his side with the 
bed clothes in a very few minutes. “I’m devilish 
near played out, old woman, and you’ll be obliged 
to take hold and help me pack this young miss up 
to the house.” “We’ll be paid, Peggie,” he 
whispered as he slipped Margaret’s watch from 
her belt. 

They wrapped her in the comfort and carried 
her to the cabin. The Doctor followed, pulling 
himself along by the underbrush. Notwith- 
standing it was a small cabin at the foot of a 
high hill, hidden from view on the river and from 
the public road by a thicket of trees and shrubs, 
he was grateful for their kindness. Ralph and 
Agnes had followed the Doctor and Margaret 
down the stream until they were tired of walking 
and had sat down to rest and await their return. 
They watched and waited until they heard the 
old man cry for Peggie. Ralph’s love of adven- 
ture and excitement led him to insist that they go 
on in the direction of the cries ; but soon the cries 


The Outing. 


67 


were hushed and they had nothing to guide them 
to the place. They wandered around until they 
accidentally came to the cabin. 

“Oh, here is a house,” shouted Agnes, think- 
ing she would find some one to direct them. 

“It is not occupied,” replied Ralph. “I will 
open the door and see what it is used for.” 

“Wait a minute,” she said in a low, excited 
tone. “I am sure there is some one living there ; 
I hear them talking. You must not open the 
door without knocking. They might kill you.” 

“To please you I’ll go through the form of 
seeking admittance,” he replied, giving the door 
a vigorous rap. 

The old man opened the door just wide 
enough to peep out. His weird look, long, 
stringy, white hair and shaggy appearance caused 
Ralph to step back and wonder if the house was 
occupied by spooks. Agnes smiled, but a shiver 
of fear ran over her. Doctor Lokeridge saw 
them, when the door was opened, and relieved 
their fears by saying to the old man, “They are 
our companions ; let them come in.” 

“You here! How does this happen?” asked 
Ralph. 

“What is the matter with Margaret?” ex- 


68 


She Wanted to Vote . 


claimed Agnes when she saw her lying on the bed 
so pale and weak. 

The Doctor related the unfortunate occur- 
rence and asked them to take the news to Mrs. 
Blanden and, if possible, to bring her to them 
that evening. 

“I can easily make the trip if we are not 
delayed in finding the way back to our carriage. 
We were so completely lost when we found this 
house that I do not even know in what direction 
we were going.” 

“Where did you hitch your horse, sir?” the 
old man eagerly inquired. 

“It is quite a distance up the river, where a 
small stream flows into the Wabash, and near a 
large cluster of willows.” 

“I know precisely where it is, and will take 
you right to the spot for a trifle. Not far if you 
know the way. I know every foot of this ground 
and I’m familiar with every sound. Can’t a 
strange dog come in these diggings but I know 
it soon as he barks.” 

“We will certainly pay you for your trouble,” 
replied the Doctor, giving him a piece of silver,, 
“and we want you to go quickly.” 

Going to a pine box that was nailed up against 
the wall, he reached up under a calico curtain and. 


The Outing. 


69 


brought out a large-brimmed hat that was turned 
up at one side and fastened with a rosette of gray- 
fur. Drawing it down over his head, he said, as 
he opened the door, “Come on, foller me and I’ll 
have you off in less time than it takes to say it.” 

When Agnes beheld his tall, bony frame, cat- 
like eyes and peakish expression she thought him 
an unparalleled curiosity, and wondered if she 
had not found the connecting link between man 
and animal. She did not know whether he pos- 
sessed instinct or reason and hesitated to accept' 
him as their guide. However, she trusted to the 
judgment of Ralph and the Doctor, and the old 
man led them by a much shorter route than the 
one they had before taken, reaching the place 
where they had left their carriage, and by his 
timely assistance they were soon hastening on 
their way. 










CHAPTER VIL 


AT THE CABIN. 

After Ralph left Agnes at her home he drove 
at a reckless speed until he reached the Blanden 
homestead. It was late in the evening, a cool 
wind had arisen and Mrs. Blanden was carrying 
in wood that she might have a little fire when 
Margaret returned. She had heard the quick 
striking of the horses’ feet on the gravel road and 
the sudden stop at the gate and she felt sure of 
their arrival. She hastened to build her fire, but 
before the kindling was even lighted Ralph 
Brown was at the door, and in his rapid way 
told her of Margaret’s accident. “They want 
you to come to them at once,” he added. 

“Is she dying? O, tell me quick — is she dy- 
ing?” shrieked Mrs. Blanden. 

“No, no, she’s out of danger now, but her 
strength is so nearly exhausted that she could 
not travel so far this evening.” 

“I cannot leave Frank alone, and he is not 
well enough to go. What shall I do?” 


72 


She Wanted to Vote . 


“Leave him with your neighbor down here/’ 
replied Ralph. 

“Yes, I can stay there. I know it will be all 
right with Mr. Stark,” said Frank. 

“Perhaps that will be the best we can do,” 
she replied. “After Ralph changes horses he 
may drive you over there while I get ready 
to go.” 

By six o’clock they were on their way to the 
cabin where Margaret and the Doctor had found 
shelter, and, in their great anxiety to reach Mar- 
garet, she encouraged Ralph in his rapid driving. 
He was familiar with the condition of the road 
leading to the river and the increasing darkness 
did not retard their progress until they turned 
down the lane leading to the cabin. Here, in the 
shadow of the trees and hills, the dense blackness 
of the night appeared impenetrable; and Ralph, 
who seldom thought of danger, drew up the reins 
and brought the team to a walk. He observed 
the slightest jolt of the carriage and noted the 
sound when crossing the rudely-constructed cul- 
verts or splashing through unbridged branches. 
When he was starting away in the afternoon the 
old man was thoughtful enough to tell him the 
number of bridges and branches he would have 
to cross along this lane, and he had carefully 


At the Cabin. 


73 


noted every one they had passed over. When the 
last one was counted they saw a dim light just a 
short distance ahead and Ralph knew it signaled 
the place. With greater assurance of safety, he 
urged the horses to a slow trot, and soon they 
stopped where the light was burning in the win- 
dow. 

“Is it possible that my daughter was driven 
to find shelter in this miserable hovel ?” said Mrs. 
Blanden doubtingly. 

“I am sure this is the right place,” replied 
Ralph. “Yes, I know it now, for I looked 
through the window and saw the Doctor sitting 
by the bed.” 

Without ceremony Mrs. Blanden hastened to 
Margaret, and this burden of her heart was lifted 
when she found her so rapidly recovering. This 
poorly furnished and dilapidated shanty aroused 
a feeling of fear, and, without noticing the pres- 
ence of the old people or making inquiry about 
the accident, she remarked, “I am glad you found 
a shelter, if it is but little better than none. I 
guess we can live through one night here.” 

“These people have been very kind, and I was 
thankful for such accommodations as we have 
found here,” replied the Doctor. 


74 


She Wanted to Vote. 


“Where is Frank, mother?” Margaret in- 
quired, wishing to change the subject. 

“I left him at Mr. Stark’s.” 

“That will suit him. He will get to see Katy 
Barker, and I am sure nothing pleases him more 
than to* be in her company.” 

“Does she work for the Starks?” the Doctor 
inquired, observing the different name. 

“They have taken her to raise,” Margaret re*, 
plied. “She is an innocent, pretty-faced crea- 
ture, but, being reared by the Starks, she is wholly 
uncultured. I am truly astonished, mother, that) 
you should ask a favor of them.” 

“I could do no better, Margaret. Sam, the 
hired man, was gone for the night and Frank was 
not well enough to leave alone.” 

“I did not mean to censure you, but he must 
not be encouraged to choose a Boston pauper for 
his company.” 

The old man had been sitting by the fireplace 
smoking his pipe and listening with intense inter- 
est to every word of their conversation, but this 
remark from Margaret either startled or irritated 
him, and he dropped his pipe from his mouth and 
rushed suddenly into the open air. 

“What is the matter, Pap? Are you sick?” 
inquired his wife, following after him. 


At the Cabin. 


75 " 


“Hush. Don't bother me with questions," 
he replied. 

This strange conduct and crabbed reply ter- 
rorized Mrs. Blanden and she imagined various 
mysteries that might be connected with the lives 
of these cynical old people. These vague appre- 
hensions added to her discomfort and made the 
night long and tedious. She found no rest, and 
the first ray of morning light was welcomed with 
delight. Eager to leave the place and people, she 
awakened Ralph, who had slept on the carpetless 
floor, and bade him hasten to get the carriage. 
By half past five they started homeward, leaving 
the old people very happy over the liberal reward 
they had received for their trouble. The rough, 
narrow lane looked impassable to Margaret, and 
she insisted that they were going the wrong way. 
Ralph, however, was positive he knew the route 
and drove on as rapidly as possible. Soon he 
reached the gravel road and stopped at the home 
of Agnes Shirley, and Margaret could no longer 
be in doubt. Here Ralph left them, turning the 
reins over to Doctor Lokeridge. Both Margaret 
and Mrs. Blanden were well acquainted with the 
road and capable of directing the driver, and only 
a lover would have listened peacefully to their 
numerous suggestions. 


76 


She Wanted to Vote . 


“It is a great relief to get away from that 
horrid shanty and the wild woods surrounding 
it,” Mrs. Blanden remarked. 

“It is not an inviting place,” the Doctor re- 
plied. 

“That old man is more repulsive to me than 
Satan,” she continued. 

“Well, we are done with him,” said Mar- 
garet, “and we will drop him from our thoughts 
forever. We are nearing home now and I shall 
be so glad to get there, the contrast will be so 
great.” 

“Your home will be more attractive to you 
since you have seen the cabin,” the Doctor cheer- 
fully replied. 

“I’ve no doubt about that, but really I think 
I could have been made to see its beauty with a 
less severe lesson.” 

“Yonder is the Stark home,” interrupted Mrs. 
Blanden, “and we must stop for Frank.” 

“He and Katy just now passed into the 
house,” said Margaret. “I wish we could call 
him and be relieved from stopping there.” 

“We can try,” the Doctor replied, giving a 
loud call. 

Without thought of seeing them so early in 
the morning Katy hurried to the door, and Mrs. 


At the Cabin . 


77 


Blanden said in a loud voice, “Tell Frank to 
come at once; we are in a hurry to get home.” 
He was with them in a very short time, makingr 
numerous inquiries about the accident. “I think 
you are a lucky duck not to be drowned,” he 
added. 

“I was certainly fortunate,” Margaret re- 
plied. “I lost nothing but my watch.” 

“That can be easily replaced,” said the Doc- 
tor 

“Did you have the chain that Roy ” Not 

wishing Frank to finish his sentence, she said,. 
“Sam is coming yonder, let’s hurry and meet 
him. Perhaps he has some news about that 
mortgage.” Sure enough, he had a letter from 
Mr. Blanden’s lawyer explaining the whole trans- 
action. The notes and mortgage were in pos- 
session of Mr. Glenwood’s attorney and he had 
not yet been informed of the settlement Mr. Blan- 
den had made. 

Doctor Lokeridge had already been delayed 
one day by the accident, and it was now abso- 
lutely necessary for him to return to Bridgetown, 
on the next train. He had but a few minutes td 
remain, and assisted Margaret to the house, where 
his last words were privately spoken. He tarried 
so long that Sam, who was waiting to drive him 


78 


She Wanted to Vote. 


to the station, was forced to interrupt them. 
“Make your story short,” he said, “we have 
barely time enough to catch the train.” Their 
affectionate parting was prolonged and made 
more tender by the unpleasant experience of the 
past day, and only his exalted sense of duty to 
his patients forced him to leave her so soon after 
the accident. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


THE STRANGE VISITORS. 

In a few days after Doctor Lokeridge went 
away Mrs. Stark and Katy came to Mrs. Blan- 
den’s to spend the afternoon. This was their first 
visit since the death of Mr. Blanden. Mrs. Stark 
was not an intruder, but a Christian woman who 
went from a sense of duty. They had not been 
there long when, in a shrieking voice from the 
gate, came loud cries of “Hello! Hello !” The 
farm hand was in the yard and went to the gate. 

“Is this where the widder Blanden lives ?” 
said the old man in the buggy.. 

“Yes, sir,” replied the hand. 

“All right, sir. We’ll just climb out,” he said 
to his wife. “I know they’ll be glad to see us.” 

Before he had time to hitch the horse and get 
into the house the farm hand had gone in, saying 
to Margaret as he entered, “That’s the same old 
fellow that charged us five dollars for getting the 
doctor the day your father was killed.” 

“Impossible!” cried Margaret. 


80 


She Wanted to Vote. 


“I'm sure of it. His long gray hair that 
hasn’t been combed since he was a baby, and that 
bandana handkerchief around his neck, his peaked 
nose and shaggy whiskers look exactly like him.” 

'That is the man to whose house I was taken 
after the accident, and, let the other matter be 
as it may, we will have to treat them well now.” 

“How do you do?” said Margaret when she 
opened the door to admit them. “I am surprised 
to see you here. Come in and be seated.” 

“How are you, Aunty?” said the old man to 
Mrs. Blanden, extending his hand to her. 

“I presume I am as well as one could be in 
the midst of so many annoyances,” she replied, 
extending to him the tips of her fingers. 

Mrs. Blanden did not appreciate his familiar 
way of addressing her. She thought it was 
rude and very unbecoming for one situated as 
he was to be so presumptious. 

“We were very much surprised to see you,” 
said Margaret. “Have you friends near here?” 

“Oh, no. We had business out in these parts 
and we just driv by to see how you was gettin’ 
along.” 

Katy had grown tired of this company and 
had left the room ostensibly to get a drink. She 
knew that Frank was at home and wanted to let 


The Strange Visitors. 


81 


him know that she was there. Sure enough, she 
found him in the kitchen reading, and, walking 
lightly up behind him, placed her hands over his 
eyes and made him guess who it was. 

“I know,” he merrily replied. “It is Katy 
Barker. I am glad to see you. Who brought 
you here?” 

“I came with my aunt. Uncle Zimri was 
gone and there was no one on the place to stay 
with me, so I got to come, — and I am glad I did.” 

“I am, too. It makes me happy to see you 
again. I wish I lived where you do,” bashfully 
said Frank. 

“Maybe you will some day,” she replied, as 
she carelessly played with the corner of her 
apron. “But — say, Frank, who are those old 
people in the other room ? They make me think 
of ghosts and goblins and all kind of scary things. 
I wish I had never seen them.” 

“I did not know there was any one here, 
and to be so dreadful looking as that, I want to 
see them. Let us go out on the veranda, it may 
be that I can get a peep at them through the 
window.” 

As they passed by the open door the old man 
saw Katy and remarked, “That’s quite a likely 
lookin’ gal. Does she live here?” 


82 


She Wanted to Vote. 


“Oh, no,” replied Mrs. Stark, “she lives with 
us. We took her to raise when she was just a 
little girl.” 

“Seems jest like yourn, I guess,” said the old 
man. “Do you call her by your name?” 

“Oh, no. We did not think it right to change 
her name, and she goes by her right name — Katy 
Barker.” 

“Um-um,” went the old man, clearing his 
throat and chewing his tobacco rapidly. 

“They know nothing of her history,” ex- 
plained Margaret. “She was brought here from 
Boston with a number of other children for whom 
they were hunting homes, and Mrs. Stark took 
Katy. I am inclined to think she is from a re- 
fined family, her natural ways are so kind and 
modest.” 

“Poor children,” sighed the old woman. “It 
makes me feel dreadful sad to think of them being 
sent amongst strangers, anyhow when they are 
big enough to know it. Was she?” 

“They told us,” replied Mrs. Stark, “that she 
was six years old. I remember awful well how 
she cried. I told her I would be a mother to her 
and I done everything I could to pacify her. 
And Zimri, that’s my man, tried to coax her to 
hush. He carried her on his shoulder to see the 


The Strange Visitors. 


83 


horses and gave her money and candy, but it 
took several weeks to make her feel at home. 
But law me! she thinks a sight of us now, and 
we love her as our own.” 

The old man was restless, and when he looked 
at the clock and saw that it was past five he said, 
“Get ready, wife. I declare, we must drive on.” 
No one invited them to stay longer and they were 
soon on the road again. 

“I am so glad they are gone,” said Mrs. Blan- 
den, who was supposed to be asleep on the couch. 
“I hope this will be our last interview with that 
set.” 

Mrs. Blanden arose from the couch and went 
to the kitchen to prepare supper. She felt that 
she would have to invite Mrs. Stark and Katy 
to eat with them. “They are in no respect our 
equals and I will prepare nothing extra for them,” 
she said to herself. “I think it is showing enough 
gratitude to even invite them to stay.” 

Notwithstanding the intrusion of the strange 
visitors, Frank and Katy spent the afternoon very 
happily together. They ignored their environ- 
ments and enjoyed themselves with childlike ease 
and companionship of each other until Mrs. Stark 
called her to go home. Although Mrs. Blanden 
urged them to stay and eat with them, she did 


84 


She Wanted to Vote . 


not accept the invitation. It was getting dark 
when they reached the house and Zimri was out 
looking for them. 

“They had company that stayed so late,” ex- 
plained Mrs. Stark when she spoke to Zimri, 
“that I had no chance to have any visit until they 
left, and that is why we are so late.” 

“Yes, and you have company, too, you’ll find 
when you get in the house,” said Zimri. 

They were so horrified to see the same old 
people they met at Blanden’s that neither one 
spoke, but gazed at them in astonishment. 

“We’ll be awfully obliged to you if you’ll give 
me and wife a bed for the night,” said the old 
man to Mrs. Stark. 

“You’ll have it to do,” said Zimri to his wife 
before she had time to reply. “I’ve done said 
they could stay. I couldn’t turn such old people 
out so near night.” 

“We’ll give you no trouble, sir. We can put 
up with sich as you have for yourselves.” 

“It is jest what you will do,” replied Zimri, in 
his plain, awkward way. He was not quite satis- 
fied about the character of these strange people, 
but he did not want to judge them quickly. He 
had been imposed upon by strangers who took 
advantage of his hospitality and he was becom- 


The Strange Visitors. 


65 


ing more cautious of those he entertained, but 
still his door was never closed to those in need. 

When the family went about their evening 
work these strangers were left in the room alone. 
There was an old-fashioned fall-leaf table in the 
corner, with one leaf raised, that was used for 
their parlor table. It was covered with un- 
bleached muslin and ornamented with a bouquet 
of flowers in a broken-nosed pitcher, a few shells, 
daguerreotypes and a lamp with red flannel in it, 
which was lighted because of company in the 
house. The old man and woman amused them- 
selves looking at these things on the table. One 
by one he looked at the pictures. At last he 
found a face he recognized. That he might be 
more fully assured, he handed the picture to his 
wife without saying a word. 

“Lord o’ Mighty !” exclaimed the old woman, 
“that’s Jennie Ryman and ” 

“Hush! Not another word,” said the old 
man authoritatively. “Give me that picture and 
don’t you mention it. I’ll take care of it,” he said 
as he put it in his pocket. When Zimri came in 
he was inclined to talk but very little, and soon 
after supper he declared it was bedtime and every 
one moved accordingly. 

For some reason Mrs. Stark had not told 


86 


She Wanted to Vote. 


Zimri of meeting these people at Mrs. Blanden’s 
until after they were gone the next morning, and 
in answer to his look of surprise she added: 
“They are the very same folks who took care of 
Margaret after her beau fetched her out of the 
river.” 

“I am powerful glad they are fit for some- 
thing. I don’t like to judge anybody, but some- 
how they act sneakin’-like to me.” 




CHAPTER IX. 


UNEXPECTED EVENTS. 

Mrs. Blanden could not get possession of the 
Glenwood place before the next spring, and not 
wishing to make an unnecessary change, if she 
concluded to leave the farm, she decided to pass 
the winter at their old farm home. She had 
never been truly contented with her province in 
life, but the opportunity for a change of her en- 
vironments came so unexpectedly and full of sor- 
row that she hesitated to accept it. She believed 
their accumulation of property was largely due 
to her management and had always felt restrained 
because she did not have equal rights with her 
husband to control the expenditure of their 
money. This had been a grievous question to 
her during Mr. Blanden’s life and she had re- 
peatedly expressed her determination to prepare 
Margaret to earn her own money, and work for 
the liberation of woman. Such thoughts were 
now buried beneath the burden of her sorrows, 
but their impress was left in the mind of Mar- 


88 


She Wanted to Vote. 


garet, and, regardless of her mother’s lonely con- 
dition, she sought her own pleasures and ad- 
vancement. The cold, rainy days of November 
were dull and cheerless to her and near the close 
of the month she said to her mother: “I have 
concluded to go to Bridgetown after the holidays 
and take special lessons in oratory. I am getting 
morbid here and must have a change.” 

“I am surprised at your conclusions, Mar- 
garet,” said Mrs. Blanden. “Will you leave me 
to spend the dreary winter alone?” 

“Frank will be here. You thought it very 
necessary before father died, and I am sure it is 
equally important now. Besides, this may be the 
last opportunity I shall have.” 

“When father was here,” her mother replied, 
“I always had company and you were then pre- 
paring for public speaking, but since your en- 
gagement to Doctor Lokeridge I thought it un- 
necessary.” 

“It will do me no harm, and the recreation 
will be very enjoyable.” 

Mrs. Blanden made no reply. She thought 
it an inopportune time for Margaret to leave 
home, and the thoughts of her loneliness during 
the long, dreary winter days bore heavily upon 
her troubled spirit. Margaret had never been 


Unexpected Events. 


89 


denied any educational privilege that would culti- 
vate her mind or add to her ability as a speaker, 
and to her this was of far more importance than 
the comfort she might be to her mother. 

Soon after this conversation Frank came in 
from school. It was getting dark, and he was 
greatly astonished to hear his mother calling the 
cows. “Why is mother out calling up the cows?” 
he said to Margaret. “Where is Sam?” 

“He became seriously sick this afternoon and 
had to be taken home. He has not been well for 
so long he has given up the place.” 

“What will we do?” Frank inquired with 
great solicitude. 

“You will have to do the work until we can 
make different arrangements. Hasten out and 
relieve mother, for she is greatly worried because 
Sam had to leave and because I spoke of going 
away.” 

Frank willingly obeyed, and Mrs. Blanden 
was really glad to hear his noisy footsteps. It 
was now quite dark in the woods and he was sent 
to drive up the cows. This work had hitherto 
been done by his father or the hired hand when 
he was late from school, and the dark woods 
were uninviting to his timid nature. However, 
he wished to prove himself capable of looking 


90 


She Wanted to Vote. 


after the stock and he went off singing, but the 
farther he went into the woods the darker the 
road before him appeared, and at last his voice 
failed. As he walked rapidly along the sound of 
the breaking branches beneath his feet would 
cause him to turn quickly as though he heard 
some one pursuing him. Every noise fell forcibly 
upon his ears, and as he neared the fartherest side 
of the field he was startled by the sound of foot- 
steps in the pasture just on the other side of 
the fence. He stopped and listened, his heart 
beating so quick and strong that he could scarcely 
discern another sound. Again he heard the same 
noise, — he stood motionless, looking in the direc- 
tion of the sound. Soon he saw a small figure 
passing backward and forward after some unruly 
cows, and when he heard a voice, he thought he 
recognized it and very timidly called out, “Katy.” 
She did not hear him and he called again, “Katy t 
is that you?” 

“Indeed it is,” she replied, going to the fence.. 

“Are you alone?” said Frank. 

“Not just now.” 

“I mean did you come out here alone this late 
in the evening?” 

“Oh, yes. I have been driving up the cows 
ever since I was eight years old. At first Auntie 


Unexpected Events. 


91 


or Uncle came with me, but I don’t need them 
now. This is a nice open field and I am not 
afraid. They are always out watching for me.” 

“I wouldn’t do it, Katy, it’s too cold and dark 
for a little girl like you.” 

“Why, Frank Blanden, you ought to be 
ashamed. I would not refuse to do what they 
want me to do. They cannot afford to hire it done 
when I am there. I want to help them, they are 
so good to me.” 

“You are always contented,” said Frank, in 
an outburst of admiration. “But I don’t think it 
kind of them.” 

“I must do what they say, for they are my 
dearest friends ; but I must go or they will wonder 
why I stay so long. Good bye.” 

This unexpected meeting with Katy dispelled 
all fear, and he went bravely home, hoping the 
opportunity to do this work would continue. For 
several days they were permitted to enjoy 
these evening interviews, and Frank did his work 
so cheerfully and acceptably to Mrs. Blanden that 
she was forced to see that his fidelity and helpful-* 
ness to her surpassed all interest Margaret had re- 
cently manifested. 







/ 













CHAPTER X. 


AUNT MARIA. 

One cold, frosty morning, a few days before 
Christmas, as Frank was trudging through the 
deep snow to school, making a path with his heavy 
boots for the girl coming behind him, they were 
attracted by the sound of bells and an approaching 
sleigh. The driver did not see them soon enough 
and they were forced to step to one side of the 
road into the deep snow drift. When he observed 
them he called out, “Excuse me this time, Frank, 
I did not see you.” 

“Frank who,” shrieked the voice in the sleigh. 

“Frank Blanden,” he replied. 

“Stop! Whoa! Whoa! Let me speak to 
him.” The driver checked his horses as soon as 
he could, and although they were some distance 
from Frank, she asked him in a tone loud enough 
to be heard, “Is your mother and Margaret at 
home?” 

“Yes,” yelled Frank, as the horses pranced 
away. He recognized the voice of his Aunt 


94 


She Wanted to Vote. 


Maria. “I wonder what she is coming for,” said 
Frank. “She’s the craziest old thing I ever saw. 
She don’t talk a thing but woman’s rights, and 
she’s so bossy you can’t live with her, unless you 
give her the right to make you do as she wants 
you to.” 

“That is your Auntie, Frank, and you should 
not talk so about her,” said Katy. 

“I don’t take it back, for it is so,” replied 
Frank as they entered the school house. 

Aunt Maria arrived at the Blanden home 
about nine o’clock. Margaret was writing to 
Doctor Lokeridge. She vaguely heard the merry 
tingle of sleighbells, but her mind was so filled 
with messages of love and happy anticipations of 
their future that her attention was not sufficiently 
drawn from her letter to observe the team stop- 
ping at their gate. The driver helped Aunt 
Maria from the sleigh, but she would not allow 
him to leave his fractious horses to assist her to 
the door. Taking a valise in each hand, with a 
shawl-strap full of things tied to one of them and 
a bundle of papers under her arm, she started to 
the house. Before she succeeded in opening the 
gate Margaret looked out at the window and 
recognized her Aunt Maria. She admired and 
loved her very much, and left her letter unfinished 


Aunt Maria. 


95 


and ran down stairs to admit her, but her mother 
had welcomed her into the house. 

“O, sister Blanden, she exclaimed, “I am so 
glad to see you, and yet I am so sorry for you. 
I have been wanting to come and visit you ever 
since your poor husband died, but I have been so 
busy, and I could not neglect my work for the 
suffrage movement. You know the importance of 
it and I know that you will not think unkindly of 
me.” 

“No, no,” replied Mrs. Blanden, “but I have 
felt the need of my friends more than I ever did 
before.” 

“Come on, let us go to the fire where we shall 
be more comfortable,” said Margaret, as she led 
the way from the hall. 

“Why did you not send us word that you 
were coming,” said Mrs. Blanden, “and we would 
have sent some one to the station to meet you?” 

“I really did not think of it in time. I am on 
my way to the ‘Indiana National Suffrage Asso- 
ciation,’ and I thought I would spend a few days 
with you while you are so lonely, and at the same 
time do some writing for myself.” 

“O, yes,” replied Mrs. Blanden, questioning 
in her own mind whether she had come for their 
comfort or her own convenience. 

Aunt Maria talked freely of things that were 


96 


She Wanted to Vote . 


of interest to all and the time passed quickly. It 
was near four o’clock in the evening when she 
opened her bundle of papers and read to Mar- 
garet complimentary notices of her meetings and 
an article she had written on “Why Women 
Should Vote.” Margaret felt a pang of envy, 
but had a vague hope that some time she, too, 
would be one of the recognized leaders in this 
noble work. They were so deeply engrossed in 
their conversation that Frank came in from school 
and passed unobserved through the sitting room 
where Aunt Maria was reading to Margaret, and 
on to the kitchen, where he found his mother. 

“Did you know your Aunt Maria had come?” 
said she. 

“Yes, and I waited for a chance to speak to 
her, but she was making a great pow-wow about 
women being slaves, and never looked at me.” 

“You should not be so sensitive. You ought 
to have spoken to her.” 

“Well, she said the last time that she was here 
that men were so tyrannical she did not like them, 
and I know she wouldn’t like me. The big 
mouthed old maid just says that because nobody 
would have her.” 

“Frank, I command you to hush. She is a 
woman of wide spread reputation and could have 


Aunt Maria. 


97 


married a number of times, but she preferred giv- 
ing her time and talent to the interests of her 
own sex. Now you go and do your work and 
do not enter this house again until you are sure 
you can treat Aunt Maria with courtesy and the 
respect she deserves.” 

Frank was very considerate of his mother’s 
words when she spoke so impetuously. He fin- 
ished his work and did not go into the house until 
he was called to supper, and when he met his Aunt 
Maria at the table his urbane manner was gratify- 
ing even to the vain pride of his mother. 

“How manly you have grown,” said Aunt 
Maria, “and how much you look like your fa- 
ther.” 

“He is more and more like him as he grows 
older,” said Mrs. Blanden. 

“Did you know me when I called to you this 
morning?” 

“I recognized your voice as soon as you called 
me,” said Frank, “but I had no thought of you 
when the sleigh passed.” 

“I should say not, judging by the way you 
were caring for the little girl behind you,” she 
said teasingly. 

“Whom were you with ?” inquired his mother. 

“One of the school girls was going along the 


98 


She Wanted to Vote. 


road, and I walked before her so I could make a 
path through the deep snow.” 

“It was Katy Barker, I guess,” said Mar- 
garet. 

“Frank, I hope you have not been so disre- 
spectful to our wishes as to be seen in her com- 
pany again,” said his mother. 

“Who is Katy Barker?” inquired Aunt Maria. 

“It is the girl Zimri Stark took to raise when 
that lot of waifs was brought here from Boston. 
You can imagine what she would be when 
brought up by the Starks,” said Mrs. Blanden 
sarcastically. 

“That is unjust to Katy,” retorted Frank, who 
had inherited that noble trait of character from 
his father which respects people for their real 
merit rather than their appearance or position in 
society. “She is a kind, modest little girl.” 

“Ha, ha, ha,” laughed Aunt Maria. “That 
boy is in love. He may not be conscious of it 
yet, but I can see that he is badly affected.” 

“Pray tell me what you know about the symp- 
toms — I wouldn’t think an old maid like you 
would know much about it,” angrily said Frank, 
forgetting his effort to be real courteous. 

“My experience has been somewhat limited, 


Aunt Maria . 


1 confess, for I have had work far more important 
than falling in love.” 

“There she goes on the old train of thought, 
she’ll soon be on her track of suffrage. I’ll go to 
my room. Good night.” 


I LofC 






\ 





















\ 












CHAPTER XI. 


KATY's CHRISTMAS PRESENT. 

It was now the day before Christmas, but 
there was nothing in the Blanden home to indicate 
the returning anniversary. Mrs. Blanden often 
said she “made no more of it than any other day.” 
Margaret and Frank, when small children, were 
never indulged, even in the pleasant expectation 
of a visit from Santa Claus. That sweet spirit 
which prompts a kindly manifestation of love 
and good will for those near to us was never 
cultivated in the Blanden family by any observ- 
ance of this sacred time. Their energies were 
wholly devoted to a struggle for material gain 
and personal popularity. However, this particu- 
lar Christmas was a memorable time for Frank. 
He was sent to school the day before, as usual, 
and he started so near the time Katy Barker 
usually did that he overtook her on the way. 

“Good morning, Katy,” he shouted in his 
schoolboy way. 

Katy was so hoarse she could not speak aloud, 
and simply bowed to him. Frank’s heart was 


102 


She Wanted to Vote. 


chilled by her action as much as his body by the 
cold, piercing wind. He did not suspect her of 
any intention to mistreat him, but he knew some- 
thing was wrong. 

“What’s the matter with you, Katy, that you 
don’t speak to a fellow?” he inquired. 

“I am sick,” she replied in a whisper. 

“Well, I should just say so. Why did you 
come to school to-day ?” 

“I did not want to lose my place in the spell- 
ing class. I am at the head now, and I want to 
stay there until I get the head mark.” 

“That’s what brought you out, is it? But, 
I say, Katy, do you know tomorrow is Christ-* 
mas ?” 

“Of course I do, but what of that?” 

“There won’t be any school tomorrow, and I 
shall not see you, so I will give you the present I 
bought for you.” 

“The present you bought for me!” she said, 
straining her voice to speak aloud. “What can 
it be? I never had a Christmas present in my 
life, except from Auntie and Uncle.” 

“This is the first one I ever gave,” he said, 
handing her a box. When she opened it her eyes 
glistened with tears. A Christmas present from 
Frank and her first ring coming at the same time 


Katyas Christmas Presents. 103 

so delighted her girlish nature that she was ex- 
tremely happy. 

“I cannot thank you enough/’ at last she said. 

“Wear it in memory of your schoolmate and 
friend, and that will be all the thanks I want.” 

“I will wear it always. But — we won’t tell 
where I got it, will we Frank?” 

“No, indeed. That is our secret. Just let 
the scholars ask all the questions they please, they 
can’t find out if we don’t tell them, for no one els£ 
knows.” 

When the day had passed and the teacher 
announced “school is now dismissed,” the chil- 
dren left the door hollowing, pushing and shov- 
ing, washing each other’s faces in snow and 
demonstrating in various other innocent ways the 
fun that comes when school is out. Quite a num- 
ber of pupils went the same direction until they 
came to the cross roads north of the school house, 
then Katy and Frank were the only ones going 
east. Katy was feeling badly and they did not 
hurry as usual, and it was after five o’clock when 
Frank reached home. Aunt Maria had just re- 
turned from the city, and when Frank observed 
her sitting by the fire with her wraps on he in- 
quired, “Have you been visiting, Auntie?” 

“I have been to the city. My friend, Miss 


104 


She Wanted to Vote. 


Ayers, came by and invited me to take a sleigh 
ride with her. The sleighing is splendid and we 
had a fine drive. I passed you on your way to 
school this morning, but of course you did not 
know me, I was so thoroughly wrapped. Some 
bright-faced little girl turned and bowed so grace- 
fully to you as we passed. Who could it be? I 
was attracted by her pretty face.” 

Frank’s face turned scarlet. He smiled and 
cast his eyes toward his mother and then to the 
floor. “Why do you blush?” said Aunt Maria, 
“I am sure, from your mother’s description of 
her, that it was not Katy Barker ; this was a nice 
looking girl.” 

“Of course she was nice looking, and it was 
Katy Barker, too,” bravely replied Frank. “But 
you are always spewing gall for somebody.” 

“O, my dear nephew, you misjudge me. If 
my attempt to joke has so woefully belied my in- 
tentions I sincerely beg your forgiveness. It is a 
part of my work to make both boys and girls 
happy and to encourage them in right living by a 
personal interest in them, and I trust that you will 
not doubt my sincerity. That sweet, child-like 
face which I saw this morning was innocent and 
beautiful, and I have no doubt that it indicates a 
kind and lovable disposition. I really believe your 


Katy’s Christmas Presents. 


105 


mamma’s dislike for her is not well founded.” 

“You are just right on that,” quickly replied 
Frank, “I guess I did misjudge you. I will ac- 
knowledge I was too easily offended. But I feel 
sorry for Katy. She often gets snubbed and 
laughed at because she lives with that plain, old- 
fashioned Stark family, as lots of people call them. 
They’re good, honest people, but not up to date 
in their way of living. They just dress plain and 
go to that old-fashioned church, but whose busi- 
ness is that, if they are satisfied?” 

“I can commend their honesty,” replied Aunt 
Maria, “but I must not encourage you in forming 
associations that are not congenial to your mother 
and sister.” 



























- 



































.. 





















; 



































■ 




. 























CHAPTER XII. 


EQUAL TO THE EMERGENCY. 

When the holidays were passed, Aunt Maria 
left to attend the National Suffrage Association 
and Margaret went away to Bridgetown to at- 
tend the school of oratory. Mrs. Blanden and 
Frank were left to manage the affairs of the farm 
and when he went to school she was left alone 
during the day. For several weeks the weather 
had been very disagreeable and but few people 
had called at the Blanden home. To her the days 
were long and lonesome. An occasional letter 
from Margaret, telling her of the kindness of 
Doctor Lokeridge and what “good times” she 
was having, had been about her only diversion 
from the routine work. She had grown tired of 
this secluded life, and one day, while standing at 
the window gazing upon her gloomy surround- 
ings, she was considering what she had beetter do 
to make her condition more enjoyable. A deep 
snow lay upon the ground and the trees trembled 
beneath the weight of ice and snow that bent their 


108 


She Wanted to Vote. 


branches so near to the ground that she could not 
see the road from the windows. “How can I 
endure this solitude? Here I am, entirely alone. 
I am without even the necessary help.” While 
thus soliloquizing she was interrupted by a loud 
knock at the door. Quickly opening the door she 
found it to be her neighbor, Zimri Stark. 

“I jest stopped to tell you,” said he, “that I 
saw half a dozen or so of your fine sheep down 
yonder in a fence corner, jest this side of Jones’. 
They are all kivered with sleet and snow, shakin’ 
terribly, and they’ll die if you don’t see after 
them.” 

“I am glad you told me; but I hardly know 
how to get them home. It is nearly dark when 
Frank gets home from school and I cannot depend 
on him getting them in this evening. Could I 
hire you to do the work ? I have been doing the 
feeding at noon and I am really afraid of further 
exposure.” 

“Indeed, madam, I haven’t got time. Any- 
way, strong minded women should learn to do the 
work of strong legged men. I am going after the 
doctor for Katy. She’s been right poorly ever 
since Christmas, and was taken bad last night, and 
I must hurry on.” 

Mrs. Blanden was very indignant at his re- 











Equal to the emergency." (p. 109.) 


Equal to the Emergency. 109 

« 

marks, and determined to show him that she 
would not suffer the loss of her sheep simply be- 
cause he refused to assist her. She donned a coat 
and pair of boots that had belonged to her hus- 
band, and, wrapping her head to suit the oc- 
casion, she started down the road to find the wan- 
dering sheep. Crush, crush went the snow be- 
neath her feet, but on she went for nearly half a 
mile, where she found them in just the condition 
described by Stark. It proved a wearysome task 
to drive them home over the snow and ice, but 
she proved herself equal to the emergency, and. 
had them within shelter of the fold before the sun 
went down that evening. 

Although she bore her burdens with great 
fortitude, she was not blessed with a hopeful, 
happy disposition. She allowed her restless mind; 
to magnify possible hardships that might 
come upon her. She worried over impend- 
ing trials and disappointed hopes and lived 
in a realm of discomfort to herself. Never 
as contented with her mission as a wo- 
man should be she thought it an unbearable 
condition to have the numerous cares of both fa- 
ther and mother heaped upon her. While thus 
pondering over her present situation, Frank came 


110 


She Wanted to Vote. 


in from school and brought her a letter from Mar- 
garet. 

‘‘Where did you get this letter?” she inquired, 
“did you find it in the box?” 

“Zimri Stark gave it to me.” 

“Where did you meet him, and why did he 
not leave it in the box as he usually does ?” 

“I met the old savage at home. He said 
Moses Sawyer brought him home and they did 
not come this way.” 

“Indeed ! But what were you doing at 
Stark’s? Did you see Katy and learn how she 
is?” 

Frank was surprised at his mother’s kindly in- 
quiry, and provoked that he had not been able to 
see Katy. “She is no better. When I asked that 
old freak if I could see her he only replied : ‘What 
does a young stripling like you want to see Katy 
for when she is sick ? You could do her no good.’ 
I told him that the teacher requested me to come 
by and see if they needed any help or if Katy was 
dangerously sick ; but he answered, ‘She is mighty 
sick, but we want to take care of her ourselves as 
long as we can. Too many youngsters runnin’ 
here to see her might make her worse. We’ll let 
you know when you’re needed.’ ” 

“You see, your interest in Katy is neither de- 


Equal to the Emergency. Ill 

sired nor appreciated,” quickly responded his 
mother, “and you will certainly give yourself no 
further trouble about her. For my part, Zimri 
Stark can help himself, and we will do the same, 
so far as I am concerned. He was so unmanly 
as to force me to trudge through the snow this 
afternoon for nearly a half mile, or lose a half 
dozen of my best sheep. I could not even hire 
him to drive them home for me. He is very 
obliging to women who look upon men as their 
lord ; but I don’t do that.” 

It was gratifying to Frank to have his mother, 
in this instance, condemn Stark, because he was so 
agggavated over his denying him the opportunity 
to see Katy. In their mutual satisfaction derived 
from denouncing the abrupt manner of their 
neighbor, Stark, they had delayed reading Mar- 
garet’s letter, and when Mrs. Blanden again ob- 
served it, she opened it and read as follows : 

Dear Mamma : — 

I shall finish my course in oratory in about 
two weeks. I will not return to live in the coun- 
try, and I want you to arrange at once to come 
to your home here. My intellectual and 
social advantages are so superior to those afforded 
in the country that I feel assured you will come to 


112 


She Wanted to Vote. 


me without delay. Besides, Doctor Lokeridge is 
pressing his claim to an early marriage, and we 
must be settled and acquainted with the more 
prominent families before I could think of nam- 
ing the wedding day. It is delightful to me to 
anticipate the brilliant wedding I could have here, 
and I am sure it would give us a prestige that 
would be very helpful to the Doctor in his al- 
ready extensive practice. I can only write you 
a short note now. I am invited to the home of 
Congressman Glenn to a young ladies’ reception, 
and I must get ready at once. 

Awaiting a favorably reply, I am 
Your loving daughter, 

Margaret. 

This was a sad message for Frank. He knew 
Margaret’s wish was now the controlling influ- 
ence in their family and he would soon be forced 
to leave the home he loved so dearly and go to a 
new one in the city. The people among whom he 
had been brought up he would have to abandon, 
and the beautiful yard and green pastures made 
so picturesque by the natural ravines, running 
streams and stately forest trees would have 
to be given up for a few feet of ground 
in the city, with no other attraction than 


Equal to the Emergency. 113 

a fine house. He earnestly pleaded with his 
mother to stay on the farm, and promised 
a faithfulness to every duty, vowing he would 
prove his words by his works if she would give 
him a trial of one year. His entreaty was in vain. 
She wrote to Margaret to come home as soon as 
she had finished her course in oratory and that 
they would make immediate arrrangements to 


move. 




CHAPTER XIII. 


LEAVING THE FARM. 

When Margaret received her mother’s letter 
she sent for Doctor Lokeridge and told him the 
good news. He was elated over the prospect of 
having Margaret so near, and so enthusiastically 
encouraged their removal from the farm that 
Margaret went home a few days before the close 
of her school and began the necessary prepara- 
tion to move to the city. Frank tried to convince 
her that it was better for them to remain on the 
farm, but his desires and plans were overruled by 
the power of her irrepressible will. “I will not 
remain here,” she said. “Here we live in obscurity 
from the busy, influential world. We enslave 
ourselves to produce a living for those who revel 
in the pleasures of city life, and I do not think 
it necessary or desirable to thus continue. I am 
determined to be where mother and I can enjoy 
life among more congenial people and where she 
can see the effect of my influence on society. You 
have put yourself in such a frame of mind that 


116 


She Wanted to Vote. 


you think there is no pleasure in anything but this' 
detestable place and the friends you now possess. 
You must remember we shall make new acquaint- 
ances among agreeable people, where we shall not 
be embarrassed by that illiterate set who are con- 
tinually pushing themselves upon us here/’ 

Frank knew this last remark was a fling at 
the Starks and Katy Barker, and he said, as he 
indignantly walked from her presence, “You may 
call them illiterate, and say any other mean thing 
you please, but I know Katy Barker is a better 
girl than you are.” 

He went to his shop, where he had often 
sought refuge from family disputes or the ex- 
pression of unkind remarks about Katy. Seat- 
ing himself upon a work bench by the window 
looking out upon the barn, he watched the stock 
playing about over the lot until his pet calf, favor- 
ite colt and the old family horse all marched with 
drooping heads in slow procession around the 
barn and up to his window. Then with tears 
blinding his eyes, he went out and rubbed their 
faces and patted their necks, saying, “You know 
as well as I that we will soon have, to part.” He 
was always kind to dumb animals. He loved 
them, and the feeling he betrayed was not a weak- 
ness, but the expression of a heart torn from the 


Leaving the Farm. 


117 


dearest place and pleasures of life. He was wor- 
ried and sorely aggravated by Margaret’s course 
in this matter, and his lack of interest in their 
preparation to move was extremely provoking to 
her. She told him repeatedly that she would 
rather do the work alone than to have her pa- 
tience tried by such a nuisance as he or any other 
boy. Notwithstanding his indifference Margaret 
pushed the work, and when the Glenwood place 
was vacated in the spring, they were ready to take 
possession, and by the first of May they were set- 
tled in their new home. 

Although the Blandens were only comfortable 
livers, they were reputed wealthy, and society 
waited for no further knowledge, but called and 
invited them to join their clubs and societies or to 
attend some fashionable church. Margaret’s 
bright mind and affable manner gave her promi- 
nence and the rumor that she would soon be mar- 
ried to their highly respected young physician 
added to her popularity. The Lokeridge-Blan- 
den wedding was much talked of and regarded as 
the greatest social event of the season. Mrs. 
Blanden was flattered by the marked attention 
Margaret received from the educated and cultured 
people of Bridgetown, and spared no pains to 
make her wedding so elaborate that it would meet 


118 


She Wanted to Vote . 


the expectations of the most extravagant, dreamy 
leaders of fashionable society. No wish of Mar- 
garet’s was questioned until she expressed her in- 
tention to convert Frank’s room into a music 
room, then her mother said: “Can’t you find a 
suitable place in the reception hall or in the large 
double parlors for the piano? What room will 
you give him?” 

“We can make him very comfortable in that 
room at the barn,” she replied. “He must make 
this change, it will add so much to the artistic 
effect of our house.” 

“I am fearful, Margaret,” said her mother, 
“that your demands increase with your privileges. 
However, I will not deny your wish at this time.” 
With a pang of condemnation she assisted Mar- 
garet in removing the furniture and fitting up 
thte room in the barn. They made it as cheerful 
as possible, but Frank was sorely displeased with 
the arrangement. He felt that his rights in the 
home were sacrificed to gratify Margaret’s de- 
sire to make a display. He refused to spend his 
evenings in the house, and through remorse of 
conscience Mrs. Blanden would frequently go to 
his room and spend the time with him. This soon 
became annoying to Margaret. She thought a 
boy of his age might entertain himself ; besides, 


Leaving the Farm. 


119 


she did not like to call her mother from the barn 
when company came in to see her. 

They were now very busy, and Frank was 
scarcely thought of except when they needed his 
assistance. Their time and thought were given to 
the preparation for the wedding. 

When the evening for the marriage came their 
home was a place of elegance and splendor. The 
beautiful chandeliers with dazzling light shone 
upon walls and mantels decorated with vines and 
flowers and upon guests who vied with each other 
in their display of costume. The bridal party 
came down from an upper room and to the sweet, 
low strains of music by the orchestra they were 
ushered into the parlor, where the ceremony was 
pronounced. There, in the presence of God and 
many witnesses, they promised to love, honor and 
cherish each other and a faithfulness in all things.; 
and, upon these sacred and mutual promises, they 
were pronounced husband and wife. 







CHAPTER XIV. 


VALUABLE FACTS. 

For a time we will leave the Doctor and Mrs. 
Lokeridge and return to the old man and woman 
who cared for Margaret when she was rescued 
from the swift current of the Wabash river. To 
these odd old people that was an eventful day. It 
led them to make their visit to the Blanden neigh- 
borhood. When they returned to their cabin home 
from this trip across the country Gabriel Hester 
made an inventory of what he possessed to find 
out how much immediate cash could be realized 
by a sale of his property. Finding the amount to 
be insufficient to meet the expense of their an- 
ticipated journey, he busied himself devising ways 
by which the necessary amount could be secured. 
This was not a new thing for Hester to do. A 
number of times during their married life he had 
sold their furniture and everything they possessed, 
except their clothing, with a view to gaining a 
larger amount by some new scheme or adventure. 
The old woman made no objection to the sale of 


122 


She Wanted to Vote. 


their property, although she had no hope of add- 
ing to their store, for every former enterprise of 
this kind had reduced their possessions. 

As the days passed he earned some money 
trapping and fishing, and they lacked but a small 
amount of having what money they really needed. 
He looked over the list of things he had for sale, 
and surely no one could have been more agreeably 
surprised than he was when he found that the 
gold watch had not been counted in their estimate 
of his property. “Ag’in I’m paid,” said he, “I’ve 
all’ays made it a rule td be paid for what I do, 
and by jinks ! it pays with interest this time. This 
blasted thing was a present from that feller, I 
expect, but the loss of it needn’t spile a match.” 

Self satisfied with what he had done he has- 
tened away to sell his property. By the middle of 
May he had converted their belongings into 
money and was ready to start East. “There is no 
time to lose, Peggie,” he said to his wife. “Now 
stir round, and we will be off in the morning.” 

Poor old Peggie was accustomed to do his 
bidding, and when the time came for them to go 
she had everything in readiness. She clothed her- 
self in an ancient black dress that had been her 
best for fifteen years, and wore a “fine bonnet” 
that was bought when the dress was new. He 


Valuable Facts. 


123 


wore a dress suit of modern style, one he had 
bought for this occasion. They made rather a 
novel appearance and attracted much attention on 
the train, but Peggie was unconscious of the 
amusement she made for others. She had trav- 
eled but little and to her the change from the 
scenes around the cabin was very enjoyable. At 
the close of the second day they reached the end 
of their journey. When they stepped from the 
waiting room of the station they were surrounded 
by cab drivers soliciting patronage. 

“I thank you,” said the old man, “I lived here 
onc’t, and we can git along very well.” 

They walked along slowly, occasionally in- 
quiring the way, and it was late in the evening 
when they reached the Ryman home. “This is a 
fine place, Peggie, a monstrous fine place,” he 
whispered, while they were waiting at the door, 
“and I want you to be as mannerly as you know 
how, so that I will not be ashamed of you.” 

When the door was opened in response to his 
vigorous ring, the old man inquired. “Is Mr.. 
Ryman at home?” 

“Yes, sir,” replied the servant. 

“Tell him that Gabriel Hester’s at the door 
and wants to see him.” 

“Yes, sir,” said the servant, turning quickly to 


124 


She Wanted to Vote, 


hide the smile that passed over her face. “A 
gentleman giving his name as Gabriel Hester is at 
the door and wants to see you.” 

“Gabriel Hester, Gabriel Hester,” repeated 
Mr. Ryman. 

“Have you forgotten that you had a step- 
brother by the name of Gabriel Hester?” inquired 
Mrs. Ryman. “Go quickly.” 

“Indeed I have not forgotten him. I wish the 
memory of our unhappy associations could be for- 
gotten, or at least not be revived by his presence.” 

This wish, however, was not to be gratified, 
for Mr. Ryman found Gabriel Hester and his wife 
at the door and soon learned that they had come 
to stay over night. He invited them in, where 
they were very cordially received by Mrs. Ryman. 

“I guess you was taken back a little when you 
saw me at the door,” said Hester. 

“Yes, indeed,” replied Mr. Ryman, “I thought 
the servant was surely mistaken in the name when 
she announced you. Where have you been liv- 
ing?” 

“I have lived at different places since I last 
saw you, but for some time my home has been in 
Indiana.” 

“How do you like living there?” Mr. Ryman 
inquired, after an embarrassing period of silence. 


Valuable Facts. 


125 


“O, well, I guess I like it as well one place as 
I do another. I find it devilish hard getting along 
in this world any place you live.” 

Mr. Ryman had not forgotten the lazy, selfish 
disposition he possessed when they were boys at 
home together. He remembered how Gabriel 
would shirk from any task assigned to them. 
How he would leave his work and wander away 
to hunt or fish, pitch horse shoes, or engage in 
any other idle amusement he found and then come 
in at meal time and represent that he had done 
his half of the work. He always wanted money 
without work, and Mr. Ryman felt sure that 
Hester had come with some scheme to get money 
from him. Mr. Ryman was afflicted with heart 
disease, and the excitement caused by the unex- 
pected arrival of the Hesters aggravated his ail- 
ment. At an early hour he rang for the servant 
to show them to their room for the night, that he 
might rest from the weariness caused by their un- 
expected visit. He could not lie down, but passed 
the night in a large reclining chair. He slept but 
little, and when the old family clock struck four 
in the morning he arose. Very soon he and Mrs. 
Ryman were in close conversation. 

“What business do you think he can have?” 


126 


She Wanted to Vote . 


timidly inquired Mrs. Ryman. “Can it be that he 
has found Jennie?” 

“If he has, it will take half of our possessions 
to persuade him to disclose her whereabouts.” 

“Oh ! father, I could give freely all we possess 
to have our only child restored to us.' 

Mr. Ryman had been very reticent about his 
daughter, and for several years he would not 
speak of her himself, and often refused to listen 
to Mrs. Ryman’s appeals to him to make one 
more effort to restore her to their home. He 
knew that Hester loved Jennie when she was a 
little girl at home and that he had often played 
with her and led her through the gardens and 
over the yard and watched with admiration and 
pride her expressions of childish delight. These 
thoughts of his little girl had come fresh to his 
mind since Hester came, and, when Mrs. Ryman 
put her arms about him and pleaded for her 
daughter as only a broken hearted mother can do, 
he betrayed a feeling of subdued pride and ex- 
pressed the anxiety of his soul for the return of 
his child. 

While they were thus talking Hester ap- 
proached them with an open case containing two 
pictures. Handing it to Mr. Ryman he inquired, 
“Do you know these pictures?” Mr. Ryman 


Valuable Facts. 


127 


recognized the pictures at once, but his heart beat 
so rapidly he could not answer for some minutes, 
when he said, “My God, mother, it is Jennie. See, 
it is just as she looked the day she went away and 
this man is Daniel Barker.” 

“Oh! have you found her? Is she still liv- 
ing?” sobbed Mrs. Ryman, “I pray you, I beg of 
you not to keep us in further suspense. I must 
know.” 

“This a very important matter,” replied Hes- 
ter, “I have spent lots of my valuable time and 
money to find out what I know and I must first 
know how I am to be paid for what I have done. 
I have facts in my possession that will be very in- 
terestin’ to you, but I will tell nothin’ for less than 
five hundred dollars cash in advance, with the 
promise of more if I have found your legal heir. 
When Jennie was a little girl I thought a heap of 
her, and by Joe, I never have lost my likin’ for 
her. But before I tell you anything, I will have 
to know how and why you lost track of her. Now 
make a clean sweep of it, or what I know may not 
do you any good.” 

Mr. Ryman grew faint, his heart palpitated 
worse than before and for some time he was un- 
able to talk. But Mrs. Ryman fell on her knees 
and pledged to him the five hundred dollars and 


128 


She Wanted to Vote . 


prayed that he would just tell her if she was liv- 
ing. 

“Not much, madam,” he replied cooly. “I 
don’t look through green goggles. When the old 
man there says he’ll shell out I’ll tell you some- 
thing.” 

“It — was — my — mistake,” slowly answered 
Mr. Ryman. “It — was — politics — that — caused 
all — this — trouble.” 

“Is that all ?” interrupted Hester. “I thought 
you was a feller who allowed people to think for 
themselves.” 

“I thought I was, but man’s political convic- 
tions often lead to fanatical conclusions.” 

“Well, you are better now, go on with your 
story. This is no time to talk about what men 
will do. I want to know what you have done.” 

“I was very partisan. At that time I was 
president of the First National Bank here. Our 
home was a handsome suburban residence and all 
our work was done by servants. We toiled not, 
but lived in luxury on the interest from our gov- 
ernment bonds and from loaning other people’s 
money, and the interest on our bank’s promisory 
notes, which we loaned to the people as money. 
Barker was a poor man and a Greenbacker. He 
said bonds and banks of issue were a curse to the 


Valuable Facts. 


129 


country. He regarded the whole system as a 
legislative permit to the rich man to live off of 
the earnings of the common people. 

“He believed that the government, through 
congress as a representative body of the people, 
could create its own money for the use of the peo- 
ple. He said the government had created the 
greenback dollar and given it power to pay any 
debt, and argued that all money should be issued 
by the government and that every dollar should 
be a full legal tender for all debts, both public and 
private. These ideas I regarded as endangering 
my financial, as well as my political interests. I 
had associated with capitalists and lived in the 
realm of the money power for so many years that 
I believed in and advocated only such measures as 
would insure to the rich a greater accumulation of 
wealth. 

“I told my daughter she could not marry 
Barker with my consent. I said that he was an 
enemy of good government and cared nothing for 
the honor of the nation. These statements she 
bitterly resented. She said to me, ‘Father, you 
well know that Mr. Barker’s integrity was never 
questioned. His services were sought for the 
most responsible positions. For years he was the 
trusted bookkeeper of your bank. His fidelity to 


130 


She Wanted to Vote. 


business, his high regard for principle, character- 
ized him as a man of honor. He earns his living 
and has a kindly feeling for those who live on the 
product of their own labor. He knows the enor- 
mous sum it takes to pay the interest gatherers, 
and says that as the aggregate interest gathered 
each year from the debtor class increases the pos- 
session of homes will decrease. He manifests an 
interest in the future of America and with the 
spirit of a true statesman advocates what he be- 
lieves to be the greatest good for the greatest 
number. I implore you to lay aside party preju- 
dice and consider the true worth of the man. You 
cannot afford to let the tyranny of partisanship 
destroy the happiness of this home. 

“Love hides a multitude of faults.” I told her, 
“and that she would have to choose between us. 
If she married him she could leave my roof never 
to return. She gave me two weeks in which to 
change my conclusion. It was during a heated 
campaign, and at the end of that time I was as 
bitter in my denunciation of the man as ever, 
and that evening she went away and we have 
never since heard of her. W e have longed to see 
her, and I would have made a greater effort to find 
her if it had not been for my bitter prejudices 
against Barker on account of his political opin- 


Valuable Facts. 


131 


ions. I have suffered greatly myself, and my 
wife has experienced untold anguish. All these 
years she has grieved for the companionship of 
her only child.” 

Gabriel was not a man of tender feelings and 
grew restless during this explanation and inter- 
rupted by asking, “Where did they locate?” 

“His home before his employment with us was 
in Boston. I suppose they went there. We have 
never heard from her since she left.” 

“I cannot think Jennie is living,” said Mrs. 
Ryman. “If she was she certainly would have 
written to her heart broken mother ere this. But 
tell us what you know. We will give you all you 
ask. I cannot endure this dreadful suspense 
longer.” 

“Well,” said Hester, looking very grave, “I 
have found her daughter.” 

“Her daughter,” they exclaimed. 

“Yes, her daughter. Her name is Katherine 
Barker; the folks where she lives call her Katy.” 

“Katherine Barker, named for me I suppose,” 
said Mrs. Ryman. “But where is Jennie?” 

“Jennie, I guess, is dead. This girl was 
brought to Indiana with a lot of children from 
Boston and a family by the name of Starks took 
her to raise.” Hester now related the whole story 


132 


She Wanted to Vote. 


of his experience with Margaret Blanden and 
Doctor Lokeridge, which led to his first knowl- 
edge concerning her. 

“Did you learn from what home she came?’ , 
Mr. Ryman inquired. 

“O yes, and I wrote to the boss himself. Here 
is the letter.” 

Mr. Ryman took the letter and read as fol- 
lows : — 


Boston, May — , 18 — . 

Gabriel Hester, Esq. 

Dear Sir: — Your letter of inquiry received. 
I find upon our record book the name of Kath- 
erine Barker. She was sent to this home from the 
city. She was sent away in 18 — . Her father’s 
name was Daniel W. Barker. He was burned to 
death in a hotel here, and the mother died soon 
after. This is all the knowledge we have of her 
parentage. 

Cordially, 

O. D. Jones, 

Supt. of Home. 


CHAPTER XV. 


OUR GRANDDAUGHTER. 

After Mr. Ryman had carefully considered 
the information from Hester, he concluded to 
make further investigation of the matter. He 
knew him to be very unreliable in his statements, 
but considered the picture and the letter from the 
Superintendent of the Orphans’ Home as prima 
facie evidence that he had some knowledge of his 
daughter. He wrote to the superintendent of the 
Home, and in reply to his inquiry he received 
the same statements about Katherine Barker that 
they had written to Hester. This gave him a 
hope that he had a granddaughter ; but where she 
was or how she could be found were the perplex- 
ing questions. 

“My only clue to her whereabouts,” said he, 
“is in the possession of Hester. It is only grab- 
bing at the wind to act upon information from 
that source. However, it is all I have, and I will 
give him the money he demands and take the 
risk. It was the occasion of pleasure and regret 


13 4 


She Wanted to Vote. 


to even see Jennie’s picture as she looked wnen 
she left us ; and to feel that there is a possibility 
of finding her child gives me new hope. I may 
yet have an opportunity to atone, in part, for my 
great wrong to her. My punishment has been 
severe, but I want to show to the world that I 
have learned to love humanity more than money 
or a political party.” 

It was only a few days after Mr. Ryman re- 
ceived the letter from the Home until they welre 
all on their way to Indiana to find Katy Barker. 
With the love of anxious parents swelling their 
hearts, and a yearning to press to their bosom one 
they could claim as their own, they were unat- 
tracted by the things common to travel. The dis- 
tance seemed long and tiresome. Time passed 
slowly, and when they reached the end of their 
journey by railroad they hired a carriage and 
Hester directed the way to Zimri Stark’s and in- 
structed the driver to take them as quickly as they 
could safely drive the distance. 

It was after dark when they reached the Stark 
home. Katy and Zimri had just finished the-ir 
evening chores and were coming into the house. 
Katy saw them as they approached, and ran ex- 
citedly to Mrs. Stark, saying, “O Auntie, the 
same old man and woman that we kept over 


Our Granddaughter . 


1‘35 


night last fall, with some other folks, are at the 
door. Listen, they are knocking now.” 

“Be quiet,” said Zimri; “I will go and see 
what they are after.” When he saw it was the 
same old man he had kept over night, he was 
tempted to order him away, but the more respecta- 
ble looking strangers with him kept him from 
doing so*. He prided himself on his “square deal- 
ing/’ and thought he would give them a chance 
to make their business known, so he invited 
them in. 

Before they were seated Hester inquired, “Is 
your daughter here?” 

“Yes,” slowly replied Zimri, “she is in the 
kitchen.” 

“I wish you’d jest call her in a spell; these 
people would like to see her.” 

“Katy, come here,” he angrily called, mutter- 
ing to himself. “What does all this mean, any- 
how?” 

Everybody was silent when Katy entered the 
room. For a moment Mrs. Ryman gazed upon 
her with wonder and amazement, and suddenly 
with great emotion she exclaimed : “It must be 
her child ; she looks so much like Jennie.” And 
throwing her arms about the girl she wept with 
joy in the hope she had found her daughter’s 


136 


She Wanted to Vote. 


child. “For years I have prayed for my only 
daughter to come back to me ; and can it be that 
I am now blessed by the presence of her child ?” 

Zimri was furious with anger at this unprece- 
dented conduct in his house. “I demand an ex- 
planation of this crowd, and that powerful quick,” 
he said, emphatically. “Who knows what this 
traitor is planning?” 

“These people are without doubt the grand- 
parents of Katy,” said Hester, “and they’ve come 
to see about her.” 

“Where did you get your information, sir?” 
demanded Zimri. 

“Her name, Barker, first led me to ask about 
her. I found out she wasn’t yourn, that you got 
her out of a lot of children that was fetched here 
from, the Orphans’ Home, and these facts caused 
me to come out in these parts to inquire into the 
matter. I found this picture here,” handing him 
the one he had taken from the table when he kept 
them all night, “and I knew Jennie at once. I 
knowed she run off with some feller, and I was 
curious to know more about it, for she was a 
darling litle girl, and I got several bits of infor- 
mation from you and your wife.” 

“You impudent rascal!” shouted Zimri, as he 
arose and started for him. 


Our Granddaughter . 


137 


Hester dodged the blow by jumping behind 
the door, and Mr. Ryman interfered, saying: 

“I beg your pardon, Mr. Stark, for this un- 
ceremonious intrusion, and I hope you will now 
give me an opportunity to tell you the history 
of the circumstances that led to this visit, and 
you can deal with the conduct of Hester later 
on. The picture in this case is undoubtedly 
that of our daughter, Jennie Ryman, and her 
husband, Daniel Barker. Gabriel Hester tells me 
that it was brought here with Katy and that she 
had been told by the matron of the Home that 
it was a picture of her parents. He is my step- 
brother, and knew about Jennie’s elopement with 
Barker, and when he found the picture he recog- 
nized her and suspected that Katy was her child. 
You gave him the name of the Home she came 
from, and he wrote to the superintendent and re- 
ceived this letter,” handing it to him. Zimri 
read as follows : 


Boston, May — , 18 — . 

Gabriel Hester, Esq. 

Dear Sir: — Your letter of inquiry received. I 
find upon our record book the name of Katherine 
Barker. She was sent to the Home from this 
city. She was sent away in 18 — . Her father’s 


138 


She Wanted to Vote. 


name was Daniel W. Barker. He was burned to 
death in a hotel here, and the mother died soon 
after. This is all the knowledge we have of her 
parentage. 

Cordially, 

O. D. Jones, 

Supt. of Home. 

“After reading this letter,” continued Mr. 
Ryman, “I immediately wrote to the superintend- 
ent and received the same information,” showing 
him the letter in reply to his own. “This is why 
we are here to-night.” 

During this time Mrs. Ryman had been look- 
ing at Katy and the picture, and with the facts 
bearing on the case she was satisfied that Katy 
was her real granddaughter. Zimri trembled 
under the weight of the evidence and discussed 
the question from every conceivable standpoint. 
He loved Katy and did not want to give her up, 
and especially did he object to parting with her 
without positive knowledge that they were her 
grandparents and knowing she would be well 
cared for. They looked at the picture many times, 
and all agreed that there was a close resemblance 
between. Mrs. Ryman, the picture and Katy. 
When Zimri took the picture to place it on the 


Our Granddaughter. 


139 


table, he let it fall to the floor, jarring the woman’s 
picture from the case. When he picked it up he 
noticed a piece of paper pasted on the back of it. 
On closer inspection he discovered and read the 
following written in a very fine hand : 

My Dearest Little Girl : — 

Your father is dead, your mother is slowly 
dying. All that troubles me is leaving my baby 
in this world uncared for. I trust that God will 
deal kindly with you. When you find this I shall 
be at rest. Good-bye, good-bye, until we meet 
in Heaven. 

Your loving mother, 

Jennie Ryman Barker. 

“May God pardon my sin,” were the earnest, 
appealing words of Mr. Ryman. “I caused all 
this sorrow.” As soon as his weak heart would 
permit, he told Zimri the cause of his daughter 
leaving home and why they had never heard 
from her. 

When Mr. Ryman concluded this detailed ac- 
count of the facts Zimri was pretty well convinced 
that Katy was their real granddaughter, and with 
great emotion he said to his wife: “It’s mighty 
nigh sure that we’ll have to give her up.” 


140 


She Wanted to Vote. 


When he spoke of parting from Katy great 
drops of perspiration fell from his brow. He was 
loth to part from her, and when the deception 
which Hester had practiced upon him came rush- 
ing to his mind, he seized him by the collar, jerked 
him to the door and ordered him to leave at once. 
“Go,” said he, “or I’ll shoot you down like a dog. 
The old woman can sleep here if she wants to, 
but don’t you even look toward my house again.” 


CHAPTER XVI. 


katy’s departure. 

Although it was after midnight when Gabriel 
Hester was peremptorily ordered from the Stark 
house, Mrs. Hester went with him. Hand in 
hand they walked away. Unfamiliar with the 
contour of the ground, they did not know which 
way to go to find the highway. The night was 
dark and cool, but they were obliged to seek 
shelter under a different roof from that of Zimri 
Stark. They wandered over the muddy cornfields, 
through the dark woods and up and down hills 
until four o’clock in the morning, when they 
found a straw stack, where they sought a little 
rest. When it was daylight Hester discovered 
that they were near the Blanden home, and they 
went in the direction of the house as fast as possi- 
ble in their exhausted condition. When they 
reached the door and asked for something to eat 
and the privilege of resting a while, the man of 
the house replied: “We don’t feed tramps, sir; 
you may just pass on.” 


142 


She Wanted to Vote. 


They stood hesitatingly on the doorstep. “I 
beg of you, sir, to let us come in and warm. 
The old woman is powerfully chilled and were 
devilish near dead.” 

Mrs. Blanden and Frank had arrived at the 
farm the evening before; and, when she saw them, 
she recognized them as the old couple to whose 
home Margaret was taken at the time she came so 
nearly drowning. Out of curiosity to know what 
they wanted, and how they came to be out so 
early in the morning, she asked her tenant as a 
favor to her to let them come in. 

“I am just fagged out,” said Hester to Mrs. 
Blanden, “and if you’ll give us some coffee 
and something to eat, I’ll give you a bit of inter- 
esting news.” 

“Your business must be very urgent to call 
you out so early,” remarked Mrs. Blanden. 

“Well,” said he, “to make a long story short, 
I’ve found Katy Barker’s grandparents.” 

“Grandparents!” exclaimed Mrs. Blanden; “I 
didn’t know she had a relative in the world.” 

“Well, she has, and they have lots of money, 
too.” As he ate his breakfast he related the whole 
story. 

“Will they take her away with them?” Frank 
-eagerly inquired. 


Katy’s Departure . 


U3 


“Of course they will. Zimri Stark hain’t got 
a stronger claim on her than her real blood kin.” 

“Katy is a very pretty girl,” remarked Mrs. 
Blanden, “and if her grandparents are wealthy, 
she may yet be able to attain some prominence in 
society.” 

“Ah, Auntie,” familiarly said Hester, “don’t 
you worry about that set of people. I know ’em 
from away back, and I’ll tell you they’re a blooded 
set. That grandpap of hers used to be a bigoted, 
overbearin’ cuss that wouldn’t associate with any 
body but rich devils like himself. And I guess 
Katy will soon feel her keepin’.” 

Mrs. Blanden did not like the familiar address 
of Hester, and when they had finished their break- 
fast and rested for a couple of hours, she mildly 
encouraged them to return to their own home. It 
was nearly noon when they took the lunch pre- 
pared for them and started back to their cabin in 
the valley of the Wabash. 

Mrs. Blanden had gone to her farm to spend 
the week ; but when she learned that Katy’s grand- 
parents were at Mr. Stark’s, she went home the 
next day, that she might stop at the Stark home 
and see what kind of people they were. Frank’s 
unsuspecting mind could not understand this sud- 


U4: 


She Wanted to Vote . 


den change in his mother’s plans. His knowledge 
of the world was too limited even to suspect that 
riches will often turn the attention of the most 
arrogant to those who were ignored in adversity. 
He made no objection to her conclusion, and when 
they stopped at Stark’s he was pleased to see Katy 
sitting alone on the steps at the side door. Mrs. 
Blanden hurriedly went into the house, where she 
was delighted to find the Ry man’s. Frank, how- 
ever, was not so much interested in the new grand- 
parents and went directly to Katy. He knew from 
her swollen eyes that she had been crying. His 
heart was touched and moved with a strong de- 
sire to pom fort her ; but, as he approached her, 
his courage failed and he only spoke to her in his 
usual way. 

“Oh! Frank, how glad I am to see you,” she 
said, in a pathetic tone. 

“To tell me of your good fortune,” said he, 
regaining his self-possession. 

“I do not know what to think of it. I cannot 
tell whether it is good or bad. To leave Auntie 
and Uncle, whom I’ve been with so long, and all 
the rest of my good friends here, and go to an- 
other home even with those who are said to be 
my grandparents, seems SO' strange to me I can 
not feel happy.” 



“ He knew from her swollen eyes that she had been crying." 

(p. 144.) 













Katy’s Departure . 


145 


“It is like losing my last friend, Katy, to have 
you go away. But if it will give you a more 
pleasant home, I would gladly have you go. I 
would not keep one person from having a happy 
home. Since we have moved to town there is no 
room, for me. My home is more disagreeable 
than ever before. As I told you when I saw you 
last, before Margaret was married they gave me 
a room in the barn, and I have had to occupy it 
ever since, and I have no hope of anything better 
soon.” 

Her troubles were nearly forgotten while she 
listened to Frank, and she sympathized so ten- 
derly with him that her tears flowed more freely 
than before. “How can your mother treat you 
so unjustly?” she sobbed. 

“Because I was born a boy. Margaret don’t 
want to spoil the appearance of the house by mak- 
ing room for me. She wants it to be parlor all 
over, and mother allows her to have everything 
her own way. But let my troubles drop. When 
are you going away, and where are you going?” 

“I do not know, but I will write to you, and if 
you will promise to be my friend, as you always 
have been, I shall not feel so badly about leaving.” 

“I am only too glad of the privilege, and I 
am sure it would give me more pleasure to be* 


She Wanted to Vote . 


146 

friend you than I ever expect from any other 
source.” 

These assuring words, so tenderly spoken, 
gave Katy new courage, and, smiling through her 
tears, she said : “I have seen you and heard you 
promise still to be my friend, and I can leave 
with a more cheerful heart.” 

The mutual sympathy and confidence, which 
had existed between them from early childhood 
had developed a very sacred relation between 
them, and the pangs of parting could only be 
alleviated by reciprocal vows of fidelity. 

When Mrs. Blanden concluded her visit she 
called Frank to go. She was very favorably im- 
pressed with the Rymans, and insisted on them 
bringing Katy and spending a few days with her 
in the city. This invitation was not accepted, 
but arrangements were completed as soon as pos- 
sible and Mr. and Mrs. Ryman returned with 
Katy to their home in the East, rejoicing to have 
found their granddaughter, upon whom they 
hoped now to bestow the affection and pleasure 
which had been denied their only child. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


YOU MAY SEEK YOUR OWN EMPLOYMENT. 

Katy’s sudden departure was the occasion of 
deep sorrow, profound happiness and sincere re- 
gret. Nothing, save death itself, could have cast 
a deeper gloom over the Stark family. They were 
never blessed with children of their own, and they 
ardently loved Katy. But while the sweet spirit 
of her pure young life no longer brightened their 
home, she was cheering and blessing her aged 
grandparents, who had long yearned for the com- 
fort and caresses of one they had truly loved. 
The parental love which Mr. and Mrs. Ryman 
had borne for their own child was now bestowed 
upon Katy, and she was surrounded with every 
material comfort that can add to happiness, and 
given all the tender care that fond hearts could 
bestow. She had never been accustomed to lux- 
urious living, such as she found in this new home, 
and the sudden transition was a state of wonder- 
ment to her. For months she did not realize her 
privilege to enjoy her magnificent surroundings, 


148 


She Wanted to Vote . 


but, as it gradually dawned upon her that her 
grandparents delighted in her enjoyment of what- 
ever they possessed, the feeling of restraint passed 
away and she became the cheerful, happy Katy of 
former days. 

Her newly-found grandparents were made 
happy by her presence, but the heart of another 
was still lonely and grieved because of her absence. 
More than a year had passed away since she left, 
but Frank Blanden was still restless and discon- 
tented. Their friendship formed in childhood was 
a silent power which brightened his life, and a 
mutual trust which united their hearts. To him 
it was the source of his greatest happiness. Her 
kind, unselfish nature was so full of hope that 
she gave him strength under the most trying cir- 
cumstances. Now they were separated, and the 
cheerful voice he loved so well was hushed to 
him by the distance that lay between them. His 
greatest comfort was an occasional letter from 
Katy, telling of her new experiences. 

Very late in the spring, near the close of the 
school term, Frank was sitting by the table in his 
room in the barn, with the school books he had 
been studying lying beside him. 

He had finished his lessons and was writing 
to Katy, when his sister, Mrs. Lokeridge, entered- 


You May Seek Your Own Employment. 14:9 

his room. “I came out,” she said, “to inform you 
of my plans about the work that is to be done 
around these premises this summer. The Doctor 
has purchased this property, and I now have full 
control of everything about this home, and I am 
determined to have the most attractive lawn on 
Broadway. I have employed a professional gar- 
dener to keep the yard and garden, and you must 
not plant the sweet peas you spoke of nor any- 
thing else in the yard.” 

“Why did you do that?” inquired Frank. 
“You know I was brought up on the farm and 
know very little about any other kind of work, 
and taking care of the yard has been about my 
only employment here. What do you expect me 
to do?’ 

“I am determined to have our residence graced 
with beautiful surroundings, and to do this re- 
quires more skill than you possess. You will have 
to seek your own employment.” 

•“I think it a confounded shame that I am de- 
nied the right to cultivate even a few flowers 
and a garden. I suppose I shall soon be denied 
the privilege of taking care of the horse.” 

“Indeed, you will have to give up that priv- 
ilege. We have arranged to board him at the 
livery stable. I cannot endure the dirt any longer 


150 


She Wanted to Vote . 


that is caused by keeping him at home. Your 
clothes often bear the odor of the stable when 
you come to breakfast, and I will not have my 
house smelling like a barn.” 

“It is nothing but your senseless pride,” an- 
grily said Frank; “you think it is fashionable.” 

“It is necessary for one in my position to yield 
a little to the pressure of fashion,” she sarcasti- 
cally replied, “and you may expect to find every- 
thing done as I have told you.” 

When she went away from his room, and he 
was left to battle with the agony of humiliation 
and disappointment, these thoughts filled his 
mind: “Why do I live? I am not needed any- 
where. Even mother and Margaret look upon 
me as an intolerable nuisance. Here I am shut 
out from my parental roof. Though there are 
ten large rooms in the house, there is none for me. 
They say I am rough and they need what was 
intended for a bed-room down stairs for a back 
parlor or music room. It is strange to me that 
so many women think more of fashion than they 
do of their boys.” 

Frank Blanden was of that age in life when 
troubles are very hard tO' bear, and the picture 
he made of his isolated condition caused him to 
weep bitterly. It was growing late at night, and 


You May Seek Your Own Employment. 151 

the darkness of the hour was but a fitting emblem 
of his perilous condition. His education had not 
been of a nature to direct him to seek the guidance 
of divine truth. He knew nothing of the consol- 
ing words of Jesus : “Come unto Me, all ye that 
labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you 
rest.” But he struggled alone in Kis unhappy 
condition. The clock at last struck twelve, and 
seizing his hat he went out for a walk. All alone 
he walked up and down the street, seemingly in 
pursuit of something to divert his mind from that 
horrible thought, “nobody wants or cares for 
me.” It was long after the quiet hour of mid- 
night when he returned to his room, where he 
gave vent to his feelings in a letter to Katy. The 
consciousness that he had one friend who would 
give a sympathetic ear to the story of his troubles 
soothed hi's weary heart, and near the morning 
hour he fell asleep. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 


EFFECT OF INFLUENCES. 

When Mrs. Blanden moved to the city she 
gave Frank the care of the yard and bam. This 
was the only employment for him that the home 
furnished. He did his work well and cheerfully. 
He loved the horse, and would talk to him as he 
would to a person. When he brought him from 
the stable, curried and brushed until his black hair 
was sleek and glossy, he would look upon him 
with great pride and admiration. This was not 
simply amusement for him, but a necessary work 
that gave him a feeling of usefulness. When the 
work at home was given into the hands of profes- 
sionals, Frank was forced to spend many hours in 
idleness. He was ready and willing to work, and 
when the people learned of his reliability and in- 
dustry they were glad to give him such employ- 
ment as they had. He spent the summer months 
doing what work he found to do and loafing with 
the boys in the woods and along the river. He 
was not satisfied to spend his time in that way, 


154 : 


She Wanted to Vote . 


and was glad to leave early in September and 
enter college, at Greensbury. During the first 
year Frank was in college, suffice it to say, he 
was a good student and a favorite of the faculty 
and many of the students. His class record was 
above the average. He made friends as he formed 
new acquaintances, and, when he entered upon 
the second year, he was very popular in the social 
circles of both the town and college. The young 
ladies sought his company and the mothers gave 
an approving smile whenever he called upon their 
daughters. Frank was happy. He enjoyed the 
college work and the recreation which society had 
thus far afforded was both restful and helpful. 
Flis life had been pure and honorable, and he 
enjoyed the pleasure of the passing days without 
any shadow of remose. His letters to Katy were 
full of hope and confidence that he would gradu- 
ate with honors and be fully prepared to enter 
his chosen profession. 

It was a beautiful autumn, the October days 
were mild and the outdoor air was both inviting 
and refreshing. It was a season when many of 
the boys of the athletic association spent all their 
spare time playing football. Frank had been per- 
suaded by the boys and some of the professors 


Effect of Influences. 155 

until he was seriously thinking of joining the 
team. 

“Don’t be a coward,” said his room-mate; 
“we need a man to fill John’s place. You need that 
much exercise. Come on, now, don’t be SO' lazy.” 

“I am neither a coward nor a lazy man, but 
I do< not care to> take so much time from my 
lessons.” 

“O, bosh ! Athletics is a part of our college 
training, recommended by nearly every member 
of the faculty, and you will not be famous in col- 
lege until you learn to kick a ball, use boxing 
gloves, suffer your teeth knocked out, your ears 
tramped off and your ribs broken. Boys must 
develop their muscle and their power of endurance 
as well as their brain. I want you to be ready 
to play by the last of the week.” 

When Frank was alone in his room, he wrote 
a letter to his mother, telling her in detail how 
he had been urged to' join the team, and adding, 
“I do not feel any need of such violent exercise, 
but if you think it will be of benefit to me, I will 
try it.” He yet appealed to his mother for coun- 
sel, and if she coincided with the influences of 
the college and encouraged him to engage in a 
game which might bring pain and misery, who 
should be responsible? 


156 


She Wanted to Vote. 


In a day or two after he sent the letter, he 
received an answer from Margaret, in which she 
said : 

“Mother and I have talked over the question 
of football, and we feel that you are certainly 
more stupid than you ought to be or you would 
have joined the team without bothering us about 
it. You know it to be a popular, national game, 
■one which every live boy likes to play ; and, when 
the faculty encourages it, I am astonished that 
you should hesitate. Hereafter you will please 
rely upon your own judgment in matters of such 
minor importance and not interrupt us with 
them.” 

Frank read this letter while he was in the post- 
office, and he had not gone a square away when 
he met his room-mate. 

“What conclusion have you reached?” he in- 
quired. “We want to play this evening. Say 
quickly what you are going to do and I will tell 
the boys.” 

“All right, I will try it,” said Frank, “though 
I must confess I am not ambitious in that direc- 
tion.” 

“We will depend upon you,” said his room- 
mate, as he left him. “Don’t fail to be on the 
ground by half-past four.” 


Effect of Influences . 


157 


When Frank returned to his boarding place he 
seated himself beneath the branches of a large 
apple tree that grew near the garden and began 
studying his lessons. He had applied himself 
very closely for nearly two hours, when he laid 
his books down. Fie was in deep thought about 
the game and did not observe Mrs. Morely com- 
ing from the garden until she spoke to him. 

“Have you learned your lesson?” she asked in 
her motherly way. “I see you have laid your 
book aside.” 

“I scarcely know, but I think I have. I have 
been bothered for several days. They have so 
persistently urged me to join the football team 
that I ” 

“I hope you have not concluded to do so,” in- 
terrupted Mrs. Moreley. 

“Yes, I have; I told them I would try it.” 

“I am truly sorry you have done so. It is a 
very dangerous, brutal game, and nothing good 
can possibly grow out of it. Besides, it brings 
one into so many associations that tend to evil.” 

“They tell me I need the exercise.” 

“The game as it is now played is unfit for a 
college game,” replied Mrs. Moreley. “Several 
accidents have already happened this year, and 
there is ever present the possibility of being ser- 


158 


She Wanted to Vote. 


iously injured. I am surprised that a Christian 
institution will even ailow it played. There is 
nothing elevating or beneficial about it. The ex- 
ercise is too violent to be healthy and too rough 
to be respectable.” 

“The college president is a Christian gentle- 
man, a member of your church, and he encourages 
it,” gravely replied Frank. 

“Yes, and I am horrified at his course. He is 
disobeying the scriptural injunction to avoid the 
very appearance of evil, when he allows the boys 
to indulge in a sport so dangerous to human life. 
He is swayed by the present popularity of the 
game in other colleges. If the boys need physical 
exercise let him recommend something more use- 
ful and at any rate less dangerous.” 

Frank felt the weight of Mrs. Moreley’s ad- 
vice. His sister Margaret had boarded with her 
the four years she was in college, and he had 
already been with her more than a year, and, dur- 
ing all this time, her counsel had been such as 
would shield him from every surrounding danger. 
Frank did not wish to be disrespectful to Mrs. 
Moreley, but he had promised the boys to play, 
and at half-past four he was on the ground. 
Being active and strong, he added a great deal to 
the spirit of the game. He soon became infatu- 


Effect of Influences. 


159 


ated with it, and before the close of the season 
he was one of the best players and a most zealous 
advocate of football. 

By this, time the society of the place was very 
agreeable to Frank, dnd he concluded to spend the 
holidays at Greensbury instead of returning home. 
One blustery morning, between Christmas and 
New Year’s, he did not appear at the breakfast 
table, and the Moreleys were very much concerned 
about him. This was an unusual thing for Frank, 
and Mr. Moreley went to his room, where he 
found him fast asleep. He slept until eleven 
o’clock, and Mrs. Moreley did not see him until 
he appeared in the dining room at the dinner 
hour. 

“What is the matter, Frank, are you sick?” 
she inquired, with interest. 

“O, no, I was very sleepy and did not wake up. 
We have had such a round of parties this week 
that I was obliged to sleep in the daytime if I 
got the necessary amount of rest.” 

“You should not go so often nor stay out so 
late at night,” remarked Mrs. Moreley. 

“We had such interesting games last night 
that I stayed out later than I ought. We were 
playing for prizes and I did not want to give up 
until the contest was over. See this silver stamp 


160 


She Wanted to Vote. 


case that I won/’ he innocently said, as he handed 
it to her. 

“Pray tell us how and where you won it,” 
said Mrs. Moreley. 

“Mrs. Prof. Hittle gave a card party last 
night, and I won it there.” 

“I did not know that you had learned to play 
cards. I am very sorry, for it is an idle amuse- 
ment and will take your time from your lessons, 
and probably lure you into the society that depends 
upon gambling for a living.” 

“I see no harm in an innocent game of cards. 
Some of the leading workers in the church and 
other reform movements of the town played at my 
table, and I am sure the society I was in last night 
would corrupt nobody.” 

“It is the first step to gambling. You are 
nearer the gambler’s den, you will admit, than 
you were before you learned to play. You are 
more and more enticed from study hours now by 
these games you have learned. I notice that you 
are absent from your room many more hours than 
during the first year you were with us. When 
rearing our children, I was laughed at as an old 
fogy, and they were taunted and irdnically said 
to be too good and too pious to indulge in a 
game of cards, but, thank God, we succeeded in 


Effect of Influences . 


161 


developing an individuality and lofty standard in 
tiiem that would not yield to public opinion or 
popular waves unless they could conscientiously 
do so. Every household should be a place of ref- 
uge for the innocent youth, and I pray that God 
may have pity on those church members who pro- 
fess religion and claim to be the respectable society 
and yet indulge in the very evils that are so detri- 
mental to the welfare of young men and women, 
and forbidden by the laws of the church. I do 
not wish to wound your feelings, but I regard 
it my duty to take a motherly interest in the young 
men who live in my house. I speak of the dan- 
gers confronting you before you feel the pangs 
of remorse that so often follow. I hope that 
you will not go down under the social influences 
with which you have to contend.” 

Hitherto he had talked freely to Mrs. More- 
ley, but now as the days passed he avoided con- 
versing with her. When the warm spring days 
came, and the boys donned their baseball suits 
and played with renewed interest, he became in- 
dignant with the Moreleys for their opposition to 
the popular amusements and changed his board- 
ing place. “I will go,” said he, “among people 
who are up-to-date, and who understand what is 
required of a young man.” 


162 


She Wanted to Vote. 


He had no difficulty in securing the desired 
boarding place, and when he was again settled he 
knew that he could come and go when and where 
he pleased without any one objecting. The college 
team was practicing for a game with the boys 
of Aberdine College, and their ideal result of the 
game was the glory of beating the other team. 

When at last the day came for the game be- 
tween the teams, the boys were in good practice 
and had everything ready for a great victory. 
When the train pulled in bearing the team from 
Aberdine, a large crowd of spectators came with 
them. College colors were prominent, and the 
ladies as well as the gentlemen manifested great 
anxiety for the success of their respective teams. 
At three o’clock the game was called, the band 
played, tin horns were blown, the boys yelled and 
the more genteel representatives of the college sat 
in open cabs, waving college colors. Excitement 
ran high, the boys felt that it would be a financial 
success from the large crowd that was present, 
and each side played to win. As the game pro- 
gressed the intensity of feeling between the teams 
increased, and in their furore of excitement they 
used whatever means that would win. In the 
fierce struggle for victory, near the close of the 
game, Frank was struck by the ball and knocked 


Effect of Influences. 


163 


insensible. He fell to the ground as limp as one 
killed in battle. This, however, did not stop the 
game, but cries of “Carry him out and go on with 
the game” came from an enthusiastic crowd. A 
“substitute” was called in and the game was con- 
tinued with no wane of enthusiasm. Frank was 
carried to his room in an unconscious condition, 
and his pitiful moans seemed only answered by 
the howling, noisy crowd that witnessed the game. 
The strife for success increased, and soon each 
accused the other of robbery, and so much time 
was spent in wrangling over their rights that the 
Aberdine team left the game unfinished in order 
to make the train for home. 




r 




CHAPTER XIX. 


UNSATISFACTORY CONDITIONS. 

Frank’s injuries were of such a serious nature 
that his room-mate telegraphed to his mother to 
“come at once.” She received the message about 
four o’clock in the afternoon, when the ladies of 
the Mothers’ Council were holding a meeting at 
the Lokeridge home. Mrs. Lokeridge was read- 
ing a paper on the subject, “Firm Rule Over Way- 
ward Childhood,” and Mrs. Blanden quietly laid 
the message away without betraying the least emo- 
tion. She did not want to divert attention from 
Margaret’s paper, for she thought it was well 
written and full of suggestions that would be very 
helpful to anxious mothers. When the programme 
was finished light refreshments were served, and 
it was nearly dark when the Council adjourned. 

“Here is a very sad telegram,” said Mrs. Blan- 
den to Margaret, handing it to her. “Come at 
once; Frank is dangerously hurt,” read Margaret. 
“I do wonder what has happened to the poor 
boy. When did this come?” 


166 


She Wanted to Vote. 


“It came while you were reading your paper, 
and I knew we could not leave until eleven o’clock 
to-night. I did not think it was necessary to dis- 
turb a meeting of so much interest when we 
gained nothing by it.” 

“Oh, mother, I am so anxious about him. I 
do not understand how you can be so indifferent. 
I will telephone the Doctor and have him go with 
you.” 

“His condition may not be so dangerous as 
this telegram indicates. You must be more hope- 
ful. I will go to him as soon as possible.” 

Hasty preparations were made, and Mrs. Blan- 
den and Doctor Lokeridge started on the first 
train. They reached Frank’s room about ten 
o’clock the next morning. He did not recognize 
them, and Mrs. Blanden’s motherly love was 
stirred to its depths and expressed by tears and 
tenderest care. The Doctor examined Frank with 
more than ordinary solicitude. He felt very doubt- 
ful about his recovery. Since Doctor Lokeridge 
had first known Frank he had befriended him and 
shown him such favors as he could under exist- 
ing conditions, and his extra care at this time was 
as much because of his friendship as his profes- 
sional habit. 

When Mrs. Blanden learned how Frank was 


Unsatisfactory Conditions. 167 

so seriously hurt, she felt keenly rebuked for en- 
couraging him to take part in the games. How- 
ever, she reasoned about the matter until she vin- 
dicated herself of any wrong. “It is a popular 
national game, and boys must have amusement. 
All colleges allow it, and why should I say it is 
wrong? It is only an accident that might have 
occurred in any other game of amusement.” 

They watched over him more than twenty- 
four hours before they could see any change. He 
first recognized the Doctor and looked into his 
face with a smile, but made no attempt to utter 
a word. The next day he knew them both and 
spoke a few words. He was gaining a little, and 
Doctor Lokeridge returned to his work at home, 
but his mother remained with him. At that time 
Mrs. Blanden’s means were too limited to hire a 
professional nurse, and for six weeks she cared 
for him at his room. 

During this time Mrs. Lokeridge did the 
housekeeping at home with no other help than 
the nurse girl, and she found it a very arduous 
task to keep up in their accustomed style. She 
needed her mother’s help, and so persistently 
urged her to come home that she made the trip 
with Frank before he was sufficiently strong for 
the effort. This caused a slight relapse, and It 


168 


She Wanted to Vote. 


was several weeks before he regained his strength. 
With returning strength came his interest in 
amusements, and the boys and girls of the social 
clubs were such frequent visitors that Mrs. Loke- 
ridge became very much annoyed by them. She 
wanted quiet in the house. 

On this particular Thursday morning she was 
preparing for the Literary Club, which was to 
meet on the next afternoon. She had been chosen 
to lead the discussion on current events, and she 
deemed the importance of her preparation far 
greater than the pleasure of any other. She mag- 
nified every disturbance and pronounced it an im- 
position. The nurse girl’s mother had sent for 
her; and the children, she thought, had been un- 
usually noisy. Although Frank had kept them 
the greater part of the morning, their little inter- 
ruptions were very trying on her nerves, for her 
mind was on her topic. “Everything seems to 
be against me,” said she; “I never can make a 
success of literary work nor do anything for the 
cause of suffrage and temperance with so many 
provoking things to contend with. I am deter- 
mined to make a change in the general manage- 
ment of this household.” 

Immediately after dinner she left her mother 
with the work and the care of the children and 











































































































































































































The Lolaridge Horne, (p. 169.) 





Unsatisfactory Conditions . 169 

went to meet an engagement with the dressmaker 
and to do some shopping that had been postponed 
from time to time as long as it could be. When 
this task was finished she called at her husband’s 
office and returned in the evening with him. 

Doctor Lokeridge was a practical, close ob- 
serving man, whose interests were centered in his 
family and in his profession. He kept in touch 
with the minutiae of home work and was aJways 
familiar with the condition of every member of 
his family. He had observed Margaret’s grow- 
ing impatience with Frank and the details of her 
house work, and he had tried in his own mind 
to formulate plans to overcome this tendency 
without any decided change in family affairs. 
This evening the Doctor noticed that she was more 
petulant and impatient than he had ever known 
her to be, but said nothing about it. As they 
walked homeward he invited her to go with him to 
the lecture that night, and she became so inter- 
ested in the subject of the lecture, “The Advance- 
ment of Woman,” that she failed to speak about 
plans which had been uppermost in her mind all 
day. When they reached the house the children 
ran out to meet them, and the Doctor took one 
on each arm and carried them up the walk to the 
house. She saw no more of them until supper 


170 


She Wanted to Vote . 


was ready, for this hour of their papa’s time was 
given to his children whenever he had the privi- 
lege of being at home, and she usually retired to 
her study. Frank, like the children, was glad to 
see the Doctor. They were very devoted friends. 
As Frank improved he frequently drove for the 
Doctor when he made professional calls, and they 
would talk and plan with the interest of father 
and son. 

The next morning, before he went to his office, 
the Doctor walked around over the yard and back 
to the barn, admiring the beautiful flowers. He 
was considering the cost of keeping the premises 
in a style too beautiful to be used for practical 
purposes. “Here is a barn,” said he, “that cost 
probably six hundred dollars or more, not used 
for any purpose. We are paying three dollars 
and a half per week to have our horse kept at 
the livery barn, when really it would be a stroke 
of economy for me and a great benefit and pleas- 
ure to Frank to keep him at home. I will speak 
to Margaret about these things and see if she will 
not reconsider the matter and consent to such an 
arrangement.” 

As he passed through the house he very kindly 
spoke of the advantages of the change he had 


Unsatisfactory Conditions. 171 

been considering, but found her as much opposed 
to it as ever. 

“I will positively not consent to have the horse 
kept at home. This question has been settled, and 
I want it to remain as it is. I am quite sure we 
are not driven to such economy. You seem to 
grow more and more afraid of a little expense.” 

“Pardon me for introducing this unpleasant 
subject, but Frank’s interest was as much the 
cause of it as my own. We shall have to give him 
some light employment to occupy his time ; if for 
no other reason it will keep that ‘horrid set of 
boys’ you speak of from coming so much.” 

“This reminds me,” said Margaret, “that I 
failed to speak to you yesterday afternoon about 
employing a housekeeper. I know mother is very 
efficient help, but she must be relieved, and I will, 
be, as soon as I can find some one to take my 
place. I presume you think this is another un- 
necessary expense, but if my plans do not fail 
I shall be able to bear it myself. I must be re- 
lieved from so many disagreeable responsibilities.” 

“I am willing to do whatever will be for your 
good,” replied the Doctor, “hut at present I am 
not willing to give the entire management of our 
home into the hands of hired help. However, I 
will think about it.” 


172 


She Wanted to Vote. 


When the autumn days came again there was 
ye t no change in the general regime of the Loke- 
ridge household, and Frank was glad of the op- 
portunity to return to college, where he could 
resume his studies and live in the social realm 
where he found such exquisite pleasure the year 
before. He was heartily welcomed back by his 
classmates and many friends, and soon became 
more popular in social circles than ever before. 
He was undisturbed by that safe counsel which 
says: “Avoid the very appearance of evil,” and 
before he realized it he was “drifting away on 
sin’s treacherous tide.” The taste he had formed 
for card playing had been cultivated during the 
time he spent at home, and he was now quite an 
expert at the game. Notwithstanding Katy’s let- 
ters were filled with earnest petitions, urging and 
persuading him not to play, his fascination for the 
game was such that for the first time in his life 
she could not reach him. He was not now satisfied 
to play in the home, where small prizes were 
given, but sought places where there was more 
excitement and the prize was money put up on the 
game. He was very successful, and spent so much 
lime gambling that he was expelled from college 
before the holidays. 


CHAPTER XX. 


ENCOURAGEMENT. 

“O, dear, O, dear,” sighed Mrs. Lokeridge,, 
“this monotonous routine of housework grows 
more distasteful to me every day of my life. 
Cooking, dishwashing, sweeping and dusting is 
the programme for every day in the year, and, 
work as hard as is possible for a woman to work, 
I can never get through. There is nothing about 
it that is either inviting or elevating. I owe my 
husband and children the prestige of a more prom- 
inent position than the narrow sphere in which I 
am now working. I have kept house for six years, 
and, with the exception of the Suffrage Club, 
Literary Society, Mothers’ Council and our So- 
cial Club, I am scarcely known. I will no longer 
endure this seclusion from the world. Doctor 
Lokeridge is not bothered with the perplexing 
cares that are upon me or he would not object to 
giving the entire care of the house to hired help. 
He provides well and manifests great love and 
care for us all, but his vocation in life leads him 


174 : 


She Wanted to Vote . 


through an easier pathway, and his work is con- 
genial to an intelligent mind. Women have proved 
themselves capable of doing various kinds of 
work, and I mean to break away from domestic 
cares and turn my attention to work that is more 
agreeable to one of my nature. In my childhood 
my mother would talk to me about down-trodden 
women and I could not fully grasp her meaning, 
but now I understand; and I feel it my duty to 
go forth and proclaim to those women who are 
toiling in obscurity that they should have equal 
rights with men. I will join the band of brave 
women who are struggling for the right of suf- 
frage and seeking justice for the enslaved. In 
this way I can do something for humanity and 
make a reputation that will give honor to my 
family. ,, 

“A good resolution,” said Aunt Maria, who 
was visiting there and to whom she had been 
stating her condition and her plans. “When vw> 
man has the recognized rights of citizenship and 
is no longer classed with criminals, paupers and 
idiots and imprisoned by the drudgery of house- 
keeping, she can find employment that will be 
pleasant and profitable and she will become more 
self-reliant. I think it is your duty to do more 


Encouragement. 


175 


for mankind than you can possibly do and retain 
the responsibility of housekeeping.” 

“I intend to,” replied Mrs. Lokeridge, “and 
really have already begun on my work. At our 
last district suffrage meeting we decided to have 
a number of speeches made in this state before the 
next meeting of our state suffrage convention, and 
I was chosen as the speaker. The object of these 
meetings is to create sentiment in favor of equal 
suffrage and to encourage women to attend our 
state convention.” 

“I heartily endorse the plan,” said Aunt Maria, 
“and will give my assistance whenever I can.” 

“I cannot understand,” said Mrs. Lokeridge, 
“why women have to secure a perrnit from man 
to exercise a right that is justly hers. Why is he 
privileged to say what rights she can have? Does 
he presume to know that nothing will be gained 
by woman’s vote?” x 

“He does not know,” Aunt Maria replied ; “he 
wants to keep his stolen privilege to make laws 
for her to obey.” 

“Men ostensibly make the laws that govern 
our nation, but women positively make the laws 
that govern the household, or at least the women 
of this house do,” said Frank, who had come in 
during their conversation. 


176 


She Wanted to Vote. 


Since Frank was expelled from college Mrs, 
Lokeridge felt so disgraced that she could scarce- 
ly tolerate him in her presence, and this imperti- 
nent remark caused her to retort very sharply: 
“If all men were as idle and disagreeable as you 
are, they should each of them have a woman, ap- 
pointed as their guardian who wduld compel them 
to earn a respectable living.” 

“In reviewing my past life,” Frank thought- 
fully replied, “it seems to me that from the force 
of circumstances which I encountered I have sim- 
ply drifted to the place that is prepared for victims 
like myself. You helped to place me where I am, 
and I hope you will enjoy the fruit of your labor.” 

“Frank, your insolence is intolerable, and you 
will please not disturb me soon again.” 

“Well, ta-ta; I hope that you and my dear 
Aunt will perfect a reform movement that will 
give the beloved women all the power they want. 
By the way, where is mother ?” 

“She is entertaining company in the parlor, 
and you cannot see her now.” 

“Where are the children? I have not seen 
little Fred for a week.” 

“They are in the yard with the nurse and, 
while they are contented, you will oblige me by 
leaving them alone.” 


Encouragement . 


177 


“I have heard woman called the queen of the 
home/' replied Frank, “but I think when she be- 
comes so devoid of interest in its inmates as you 
are, she should be dethroned and her place given 
to one who at least possesses the instinct of moth- 
er hood/ ’ 

When Frank left the room, Aunt Maria re- 
marked, “How much Frank has changed! It is 
a dreadful thing for an innocent boy, such as he 
was, to fall so low.” 

“Yes, there has been a marked change in his 
life within the last year. I believe he becomes 
more reckless every day. He has wasted his op- 
portunities to receive an education and brought 
disgrace upon the Blanden name. He was ex- 
pelled from college for gambling and now he is 
drinking freely. When I see my own brother 
patronizing the saloon, legalized by man, I feel 
that every obstacle must be removed which pre- 
vents women from voting. I am more convinced 
than ever that such damnable places would not 
exist if women had the power of the ballot.” 

“You have spoken my sentiments,” said Aunt 
Maria. “Just as long as this Christian nation 
legalizes dramshops and gambling dens, young 
men will continue to fall victims of sm. But de- 
prived, as we are, of the right to vote, we can do 


178 


She Wanted to Vote . 


no more than to wish it were not so; we see this 
evil and know its ruinous effects, but just be- 
cause we were born women we cannot even help 
to procure a remedy.” 

'‘This dishonors our civilization,” said Mrs. 
Lokeridge. “It is an injustice to woman, who 
is acknowledged to be intellectually and morally 
capable of taking part in governmental affairs. 
It is an unparalleled exhibition of man’s tyranny.” 

“Thus it has been for ages,” replied Aunt 
Maria. “Women may teach their children tem- 
perance, justice and mercy, but they cannot sup- 
press the vices that lead them to ruin, because 
they have no political rights by the exercise of 
which they could make their work effective.” 

While Aunt Maria was still talking, little 
Freddie, her oldest child, came in and was pull- 
ing at his mamma’s hand asking for something 
to eat. He had been put off for sometime with 
the promise — “in a few minutes, dear,” and be- 
coming tired of promises he said, “I’ll just tarve 
a’ def’ if you don’t dive it to me now.” 

Just as Freddie was provided for his papa 
came in, and looking at his watch, inquired, 
^How long until dinner, Margaret?” 

“I was not aware of the time,” she answered. 


Encouragement . 


179 


“Is it near the dinner hour? You must have 
come earlier than usual.” 

“No indeed ! I am late. It is now half past 
twelve, and I was afraid I had kept you waiting. 
I have an engagement at the office at one o’clock. 
Can’t you give me a lunch?” 

“O, dear me, no ! There is nothing prepared. 
I did not realize the time was passing so rapidly 
and I have not thought of dinner. Aunt Maria 
and I were discussing topics of more import- 
ance.” 

“My dinner is very important to me just 
now: I am sorry to be in such a hurry, but it is 
unavoidable to-day for a patient wants to see me 
before he leaves on the one o’clock train. I have 
just twenty minutes to eat my dinner and return 
to the office. I will go back and take lunch at 
the restaurant, for I cannot wait.” 

“Very well,” she replied, “I think that is the 
best way out of the difficulty.” 

As Doctor Lokeridge started toward the gate, 
little Freddie ran after him crying, “Where’s you 
doin’, papa? Has you had dinner?” 

“Papa can’t wait for dinner to-day, Freddie.” 

“Why papa taint you wait? I want to eat 
wis you.” 

“You can eat with papa next time. Now kiss 


180 


She Wanted to Vote. 


papa good bye, and run back, and I will give you 
this money to buy candy.” 

“All wight,” and he ran back hollowing 
“good bye, papa.” As he opened the door he 
asked: — “Is dinner weddy now.” 

“Not yet, deary.” 

“May I do and det me some candy wis my 
money?” 

“No, but you may go away and not bother me 
so much. I do believe I will die of nervous pros- 
tration,” she remarked to Aunt Maria, “if I am 
annoyed this way much longer.” 

“I do not know how you endure so much. I 
want you to pursue the line of work mapped out 
and leave the housekeeping in the hands of some 
one who is not competent to do anything better.” 

About two o’clock they had finished dinner 
and Aunt Maria was packing her valise to go 
away. “I am so sorry to have you leave us,” 
said Mrs. Lokeridge, “You have given me so 
much encouragement during your visit.” 

“It is a part of my work, as well as yours, to 
awaken women to their moral right and duty, 
and to encourage them to lend a hand in the work 
for their own freedom. They are not bound to 
serve the family alone.” 

A loud cry, “All aboard,” announced the cab 


Encouragement . 


181 


man, but Aunt Maria was talking so earnestly 
she did not hear him, until he came to the door 
and told her very positively that it was then 
nearly train time. 

“Good bye, Freddie/’ she said, “Won’t you 
come and kiss Auntie good bye?” 

“No, I won’t. I’se glad youse doin and I 
won’t kiss you neiver.” 

“Very well, Bessie will,” and she gave Bessie, 
who was not large enough to decide the matter 
for herself, a bountiful supply. She had but very 
few minutes to reach the train, but stood by the 
cab door talking until the driver declared they 
would be late and gently pushed her into the cab 
and closed the door. By driving very rapidly, he 
reached the station just in time for her to board 
the train as it was leaving the platform. 





CHAPTER XXL 


THE STATE CONVENTION. 

Very soon after Aunt Maria concluded her 
visit Mrs. Lokeridge secured the desired house- 
keeper, who cheerfully assumed the responsi- 
bility of the work and who insisted upon having 
full control of the house. Mrs. Lokeridge gave 
her the control of the entire house with the un- 
derstanding that Mrs. Blanden would have charge 
of the children. With the household affairs thus 
disposed of, Mrs. Lokeridge entered upon her 
public work, feeling that she was no longer en- 
cumbered with domestic cares. As the weeks 
passed she met her engagements, and her meet- 
ings were all well attended. She created an in- 
terest in the movement wherever she spoke, and 
organized Suffrage Clubs in a majority of the 
towns. She was a brilliant and well-informed 
woman, who would picture the darkest evils con- 
fronting the people and assert that such condi- 
tions would not exist if woman had the power 
of the ballot. Many people were led to believe 
that all existing evils would be eradicated if wo- 


184 


She Wanted to Vote . 


men could vote. When the time came for the 
convention the effect of her work was very forc- 
ibly shown in the fact that it was the largest con- 
vention ever held in the state. 

Aunt Maria, president of the convention, was 
very much elated when she entered the hall and 
found it filled with several hundred women and 
a few men. She had been an earnest worker in 
the cause of suffrage for many years, and her 
ardent zeal was strengthened by the presence of 
so many strange faces. When she called the 
meeting to order she stood silently by the table 
and waited until every sound of conversation had 
ceased, then in a clear, strong voice she remarked : 
“My dear friends and co-laborers : We have met 
here to-day to further the demand of woman for 
the right of suffrage, and this large audience 
evinces a renewed interest in this movement. It 
affords me unspeakable pleasure to see so many 
women volunteer to continue the work which was 
so courageously begun by our foremothers more 
than a half century ago under the most bitter 
opposition. We are advancing this theory of 
‘equal rights’ to men and women, and the ballot, 
‘the emblem of freedom,’ will not be denied our 
sex another half century if we persistently con- 
tinue our struggle for independence. Let us all 


The State Conventions, 


185 


now unite in singing ‘The Equal Rights Banner/ 

which is so full of hope and encouragement. 

“Oh, say have you heard of the new dawning 
light, 

Bringing hope to our land, and its foes all sur- 
prising? 

Our banner still floats as the emblem of right, 
And the day breaks upon us, for women are 
rising,— 

And with ballots in hand at the right’s dear com- 
mand, 

They’ll be true to the flag and will rescue our 
land; 

And ever the Equal-Rights Banner shall wave 
O’er the land of the free and the home of the 
brave. 

“The women for truth and for virtue will stand, 
And the countrv be freed from unjust legisla- 
tion, 

And Heaven then will smile on a purified land, 
And the Power shall be praised that hath kept 
us a nation. 

Woman’s ballot is just, so then conquer we must, 

And this be our watchword, ‘In God is Our 
Trust.’ ” 


186 


She Wanted to Vote. 


At the conclusion of this song Rev. Matilda 
Brown led in prayer, which was followed by a 
short address of welcome by Aunt Maria Brom- 
field. 

After the formal opening of the meeting the 
president called for a number of short talks from 
the different delegates. Several arose at the 
same time who were eager to use this oppor- 
tunity to tell how they were converted to woman's 
suffrage and of their determination to stand for 
their rights. Before many talks were made there 
was some question as to the right of the floor. 
Mrs. Lokeridge, being the first to be recognized 
by the president, stood undaunted until two or 
three sisters spoke a word for the cause, then she 
said : “I am pleased, my dear friends, to be with 
you and to see so many mothers, wives and daugh- 
ters who have the moral courage to leave their 
homes and come to this convention. It is an 
evidence of your deep interest in a just govern- 
ment and your determination to secure the same, 
The pioneer suffragists ‘blazed the trees' and 
opened the way that made it possible for us to 
be here in open convention ; and your willingness 
to reinforce the army of workers bespeaks your 
gratitude for their noble work. It is incumbent 
upon every woman of America to join our ranks. 


The State Conventions. 


18 T 


and continue in the fight until we have secured 
the liberty to express by ballot our heartfelt con- 
victions on all public questions. Wb can see 
many good results from the efforts of the early 
advocates of equal suffrage, and every step of 
progress should give us new courage. Surely 
the time will soon come when ‘right will triumph" 
and women will be free citizens. ,, 

The sound of whistles, the ringing of bells 
and the hurrying to and fro of the people on the 
street all indicated the noon hour while Mrs. 
Lokeridge was talking, and when she concluded 
her remarks the meeting was adjourned to con- 
vene again at two o’clock. It was a beautiful 
day, and many of the delegates took the oppor- 
tunity to drive or visit some place of interest. 
Aunt Maria and Mrs. Lokeridge left the biuld- 
ing with their friend, Samuel Smith, who was 
reporter for a leading paper which was friendly 
to the cause of suffrage. They went to a park 
nearby, where he had their dinners brought to 
them. They enjoyed the fresh air and sunshine, 
and their mutual interest in the suffrage move- 
ment made their little company very agreeable. 

“This is the best suffrage meeting I have ever 
attended, and you know,” he said, smiling, “I 
never miss an opportunity to be present at a wo- 


188 


She Wanted to Vote . 


man’s meeting. I think the sentiment in favor 
of suffrage is growing stronger.” 

“Yes,” replied Mrs. Lokeridge. “An in- 
creased number of women are doing men’s work 
and receiving men’s pay, and they are beginning 
to think they are entitled to vote the same as 
men, for they have proved themselves their 
equal.” 

“Yes, and their superior,” he enthusiastically 
replied. “They are intellectually capable of 
doing what men can do, and their moral and re- 
ligious influence so far excels that of man that I 
cannot compare, but only contrast. This sweet 
influence would be felt in the political world if 
they had their just rights.” 

“My dear sir,” she replied, “you look at this 
matter in a much more sensible way than many 
others of your sex. Even my husband will not 
admit that women should be entitled to the right 
to vote.” 

“Impossible!” he exclaimed. “It is cowardly 
for a man to oppose this movement. It looks like 
he was jealous of his own privileges. Your hus- 
band, of all men, should encourage you. The 
success of this meeting is due to your presenta- 
tion of the subject in the different parts of the 
•state, and there is nothing that will brinor a 


The State Conventions. 


189 


greater change, and for the better, in American 
politics than a free ballot in the hands of Amer- 
ican women. The record of your organization 
bears the names of our best women, and no man 
has the right to impede the progress of this move- 
ment by his opposition.” 

When they had finished their dinner they yet 
had some time before the hour for the meeting, 
and Mr. Smith, with their permission, ordered a 
carriage, that they might spend the time driving. 

“This is perfectly lovely,” remarked Aunt 
Maria as they drove away. “I always enjoy a 
drive.” 

Mr. Smith was a local politician of some in- 
fluence, who was enthusiastic upon all new ques- 
tions. He had a good paying business in the city, 
but left his family to live in a small town some 
distance away. His excuse for this separation 
was that it was cheaper for him to keep his fam- 
ily there than to have them live with him in the 
city. He was an ardent believer in equal suf- 
frage and encouraged the women in this work by 
polite attentions and glowing reports of their 
meetings. 

Aunt Maria and Mrs. Lokeridge were greatly 
refreshed by this diversion from their business, 
and went back to the afternoon session of the con- 


190 


She Wanted to Vote. 


vention with renewed enthusiasm. The routine 
work of the convention was taken up and occu- 
pied the time until the hour for final adjourn- 
ment. Every suffragist present was gratified 
with the success of the meeting, and the name of 
Margaret Blanden Lokeridge was carried to every 
part of the state as that of an able speaker, a good 
organizer and an untiring worker. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


MEETING AN ENGAGEMENT. 

When the campaign of 18 — opened Mrs. 
Lokeridge affiliated with the Prohibition party 
and had many calls to speak. She was now pre- 
paring for a meeting at Macon City, where a very 
large crowd was expected. She sat alone in her 
study looking over the bill advertising the meet- 
ing, and reading the latest reports of her work. 
Her full name was printed in large black letters 
on the bills to attract public notice. She was 
conscious of her prominence, and realized that 
great effort would be required to meet the expec- 
tations of the people and to maintain her reputa- 
tion as a speaker. Ambitious to excel her past ef- 
forts, she devoted her time and thought to the 
preparation of her address, and went to her en- 
gagement prepared to give the people the most 
convincing arguments that could be made for 
prohibition and equal suffrage. 

When she reached Macon City, where she was 
to speak, her old friend and classmate, Roy Stan- 


192 


She Wanted to Vote. 


ley, was waiting on the platform for her arrival. 
He was a candidate for congress on the Prohibi- 
tion ticket, and was also on the local committee of 
arrangements for this meeting, and, because of 
his position and acquaintance, he desired to en- 
tertain her at his home. He was in rather limited 
circumstances financially, and it was not a very 
desirable task for Mrs. Stanley, but she was so 
accustomed to entertaining her husband’s friends 
that she never thought of refusing him. She was 
a kind, sympathetic, self-sacrificing little soul, 
who sought to do her duty by her husband and 
take care of three children, the youngest one not 
yet out of its colic days. On this occasion she was 
without help, and was compelled to leave her hus- 
band to entertain the woman who was seeking 
“freedom from her enslaved condition,” while she 
prepared the meal for her. Mrs. Stanley was 
very hospitable and did not complain of the extra 
work imposed upon her by reason of having com- 
pany in the house. Mrs. Lokeridge and Mr. Stan- 
ley were forced to hurry through supper, as the 
hour for the speaking was fast approaching, and 
had scarcely finished their meal when the carriage 
called for them and they immediately drove to 
the hall, leaving Mrs. Stanley at home walking 
the floor with her screaming babe. 


Meeting an Engagement. 


193 


When Mrs. Lokeridge and Hon. Roy Stanley 
reached the hall they found it so crowded that it 
was necessary for the people to arise from their 
seats in the aisles in order for the speaker to pass 
down to the platform. In introducing her as the 
speaker of the evening he said: “I have the 
honor of introducing one of Indiana’s most 
brilliant women. One who has mastered the ques- 
tions of prohibition and equal suffrage, and one 
who is doing more for the elevation of her sex 
than any other woman in the state — Mrs. Mar- 
garet Blanden Lokeridge.” 

When she stepped to the front of the platform 
she was greeted with loud applause, and for more 
than two hours she held the closest attention of 
her audience. 

During this time Mrs. Stanley was at home 
trying to place everything in order before her 
husband returned with Mrs. Lokeridge. She was 
softly singing a mother’s lullaby when Mrs. La- 
Ferre, her neighbor, opened the door and walked 
in. 

“Just as I expected,” said she. “I thought 
I would find you at home with the children. It’s 
a woman’s meeting, why didn’t you go and leave 
your husband at home with his tribe? I don’t 
think it looks well for a man, after he is married, 


194 


She Wanted to Vote. 


to be going with some other woman and leaving 
his wife at home. It’s not the right thing to do. 
Let me have that baby ; you look so tired.” 

“Indeed, I am trembling all over from over 
exertion,” replied Mrs. Stanley. 

“I do know that husband of yours is a born 
fool or he would not entertain every crank that) 
comes here. A very pleasant time he’ll have at 
your expense. That’s precisely the way a great 
many men, treat their wives nowadays. They 
claim that duty calls them. They ought to know 
better than that, for they are taught in the Bible 
to cleave unto their wives and to love them as 
they do themselves. No wonder there are so 
many unhappy homes when the scriptures are de- 
fied and disrespected in this way.” 

“He was on the committee,” said Mrs. Stanley 
by way of apology for him, “and it was very 
necessary for him to go.” 

“Why did he allow himself to be put on the 
committee when he knows he is needed every 
evening at home? He is not doing as he would 
wish to be done by, and we cannot expect good 
results to come from breaking the golden rule. 
But — look — your babe is asleep. Let me lay it 
down and. I will assist you with your supper 
work.!’ 


Meeting an Engagement. 195 

Mrs. Stanley gently replied, as she prepared 
the cradle, “My husband has a deep interest in 
all reform movements, and he is impelled by a 
sense of duty to assist in this work.” 

Mrs. LaFerre made no reply. She had a 
tender motherly sympathy for Mrs. Stanley and 
desired to comfort her rather than wound her feel- 
ings. She had an experience of forty years of 
married life and knew, from the responsibility and 
care of rearing ten children, what it meant to be 
a mother. Notwithstanding her severe criticism 
of Mr. Stanley, she proved a very helpful visitor. 
By her timely assistance the work was done and 
the children were asleep long before the speak- 
ing was over, and she had gone home that Mrs. 
Stanley might have a few minutes of quiet rest. 

The speech of Mrs. Lokeridge surpassed the 
expectations of the most sanguine. She proved 
by her work that a woman could make a powerful 
political speech, and many were converted to the 
theories presented. At the close of the meeting 
a number of men and a few women went forward 
to meet her. She was “delighted to meet the good 
people,” and talked enthusiastically to the voters 
and smiled pleasantly upon the women, wishing to 
make friends with all. Courtesy demanded that 
Mr. Stanley give Mrs. Lokeridge proper atten- 


196 


She Wanted to Vote. 


tion, and he patiently waited for her to meet the 
friends, expecting to accompany her back to his 
home. But Mrs. Ashley, nee Grace Moreley, an- 
other classmate residing there, insisted that she 
must go home with her and she accepted the invi- 
tation. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


DIFFERENT METHODS OF REFORM. 

This was the first time Mrs. Lokeridge and 
Mrs. Ashley had met since they were married, and 
they had so many pleasant recollections to talk 
about that more than three hours had passed be- 
fore they parted for the night. Mrs. Ashley did 
her own housekeeping and the next morning Mrs. 
Lokeridge, who was better acquainted with that 
art than she ever wished to be, and who had 
worked with Mrs. Ashley many times when she 
boarded with her mother, kindly assisted her. 
While they were thus employed their conversa- 
tion turned from the memory of college days to 
the actual work of every day life. 

“I am pleased to find you so well situated,” 
said Mrs. Lokeridge, “and so contented with the 
daily routine of housework. But I would think 
one of your education would aspire to something 
higher.” 

“Indeed!” replied Mrs. Ashley, in a tone of 
surprise. “Will you tell me to what higher vo- 
cation in life woman could aspire than that of 
making a happy home?” 


198 


She Wanted to Vote . 


“We may have homes without burying our 
talents and enslaving ourselves with daily house- 
hold work. We can trust that to those who are 
not interested in the enfranchisement of woman, 
and who are not capable of discussing any of the 
political and socialogical questions of the day. I 
am fully persuaded that it is obligatory upon 
those of us who have the education to do more 
for our sex and for mankind than mere house- 
keeping.’ ’ 

“A mother does much more than mere house- 
keeping,” Mrs. Ashley very positively replied. 
“Daniel Webster has said that, ‘Mothers are, in- 
deed, the affectionate and effective teachers of the 
human race.’ The extent of her power is im- 
measureable. The influence of her thoughts, hab- 
its and ideals is reflected in her children, and lives 
on long after she has passed from this world. 
Neither is her work confined to the rearing of her 
own children. She makes the home a happy rest- 
ing place for the tired father, and a place of safety 
for the boys and girls of other homes who need 
innocent amusement and social pleasures. And 
yet, her sphere is not even limited to this,— she 
talks with her husband and his friends upon the 
political issues of the day in an unprejudiced and 
intelligent manner which carries her influence to 


Different Methods of Reform. 199 

the ballot box. Her mission is broad arid far 
reaching, and without the power of the ballot, her 
rights and privileges have increased and she is 
now better protected by the laws of our country 
than ever before/’ 

“But in that way you reach only a small num- 
ber of people. I am sure it is incumbent upon you 
to connect yourself with the organized effort of 
suffragists and give your exalted ideas of wo- 
man’s influence to the world.” 

“Organizations will not take the place of home 
influence. With all the existing organizations 
and their various methods of reducing crime, it is 
appalling to see the pitfalls of sin that still stand 
with open doors producing the same evil results.” 

“By the work of all our present organiza- 
tions,” replied Mrs. Lokeridge, “we can only in- 
fluence public sentiment. We cannot hope to ex- 
terminate the saloon, gambling dens and other 
damnable places of vice and corruption as long 
as we have no voice in choosing those by whom 
we are governed. When we have the right to 
vote, our legislative and executive offices will be 
filled with men and women who will make and 
enforce such laws as will protect our homes and 
families. The very fact that such dangers con- 
front us is enough to unite women in one great 


200 


She Wanted to Vote. 


effort to secure the right of expressing her con- 
demnation by ballot.” 

“To say just what would be accomplished 
by woman’s vote is phophetic and wholly problem- 
atic. You are not yet prepared to prove your 
statement. You must not forget that the bad as 
well as the good, the ignorant as well as the edu- 
cated, the unscrupulous as well as the conscien- 
tious, the strong partisan as well as the woman 
of principle, would all be given the same right. 
We would differ just as men do. We would 
have those among us whose moral courage would 
be effeminately weak. Men and women are not 
constituted so differently that if women were 
given full control of government affairs the mil- 
lenium would dawn at once.” 

“We do not hope for such a marvelous change 
in the condition of things. But when we con- 
sider that a large majority of church members 
are women, and that she leads the reform move- 
ments of society generally, it is only reasonable 
to conclude that her work would be far more 
effective if she had the power of the ballot.” 

“It is true,” replied Mrs. Ashley, “that a 
greater per cent of the church members are wo- 
men, and that they are leaders in much of the 
benevolent work. This only proves that there is 


Different Methods of Reform . 201 

a growing tendency on the part of men and boys 
to neglect the church and the philanthropy which 
it teaches. True faith in the Christ life and fidel- 
ity to His church makes good men, and no one 
has better opportunities to lay the foundation 
for such faith and fidelity than the mother in 
the home. Possibly, during the last generation, 
mothers and fathers have been so busily engaged 
in devising schemes and creating organizations 
looking to public good that they have neglected 
to properly direct the boys of their own homes in 
Christian faith and life.” 

“It is because,” replied Mrs. Lokeridge, “that 
so many temptations are permitted to exist which 
attract men and boys away from both home and 
church, and this is but another evidence of the 
necessity for organized effort to secure woman’s 
enfranchisement.” 

“To me,” replied Mrs. Ashley, “it is con- 
clusive evidence that the children of today can- 
not be saved from existing evils by the public 
work of their mothers. Organized efforts have 
proved inadequate and I think it should teach 
both mothers and fathers to bestow more time 
directly upon their own families. The home is 
the primordial organization, established by God, 
It is the foundation of all government; and 


202 


She Wanted to Vote . 


upon the purity of the home depends the purity 
of the nation; and mothers can do no better 
work for the good of society and the welfare of 
our country than to be ‘keepers at home’ and 
fill the place God has designed for them.” 

“But it is necessary for women to keep in 
touch with the world that they may properly 
instruct their children; besides, it is often neces- 
sary for them to earn a living for themselves 
and sometimes for a family of children. Pray 
tell me what diversion or way of self-improve- 
ment you will have if you bury yourself within 
the walls of your own household, and what your 
girls will be able to do if you do not teach them 
to be self-supporting and independent?” 

“The vocation of a wife and mother is to 
serve the best interests of her husband and chil- 
dren ; but she cannot do this by choosing an avo- 
cation which continually calls her from home. 
I would not exclude women from any helpful,, 
instructive or enjoyable contact with the world 
that would benefit herself and family ; but I would 
not have her cast reflection upon the ability of 
father or husband to support the family by 
choosing work which should be performed by 
men. For diversion and self-improvement, we go 
to church and Sabbath school; we visit our 


Different Methods of Reform . 203' 

friends; our home is provided with good liter- 
ature; we have our daily papers; and so many 
avenues of information and happiness are open 
top us that we are so perfectly satisfied with the 
diversions we have that I belong to no club and 
my husband to no lodge. In all this home pleas- 
ure and culture our children take part and fully 
share; and we know and control the influences 
of our home. We expect to educate our girls 
in school, in music and in all branches of house- 
keeping, and they will certainly be able to earn 
their own living if they are ever thrown upon 
their own resources. 

“Your method,” said Mrs. Lokeridge, “would 
develop nothing but housekeepers, and women 
are capable of more important work. We find 
women in postoffices, pension offices, pulpits,, 
telegraph offices, law offices, tailor shops, bar- 
ber shops, dental offices and other places where 
they successfully do their work. Their ability 
to fill other places besides the home has been 
tested and proved, and you are simply build- 
ing arguments to continue their enslaved condi- 
tions.” 

“I will admit that women are intellectually 
capable of filling any desired position, and that 
many responsible places are now occupied by 


204 


She Wanted to Vote. 


them. But while this is true, it is also true that 
a great many men are out of remunerative em- 
ployment because women and girls are working 
for less wages than a man can afford to work 
when he has loved ones dependent upon him.” 

“But there are many, idle, drunken men who 
waste their lives in riotous living, and some sober 
ones who are too tyrannical and contrary to 
provide for their families. Would you have their 
wives refuse a good position because the world 
assumes to allot it as man’s work?” 

“In special cases of that kind I would give 
her any good position that her strength would 
enable her to fill, but I would not allow such a 
specimen of manhood to reap the fruit of her 
labor. Man is created physically stronger than 
woman that he may protect her, and this idea 
of manhood should be held up before all men. 
A good man is stronger when he feels and knows 
that some woman is dependent upon him for 
the comforts she has in life; and woman is 
stronger when she knows that she has a faithful, 
manly and courageous man upon whom she can 
rely. While their work in life differs it is of 
equal importance, and out of their harmonious 
working together comes success and happiness. 
Mould the hearts of men and women by the 


Different Methods of Reform . 205- 

revealed word of God, and the question of place 
will be determined without the aid of organized 
power.” 

“I see,” replied Mrs. Lokeridge, “that you 
have not advanced in thought. Your ideas of 
‘woman’s sphere’ are just like that of your great- 
great-grandparents. I had hoped by your co- 
operation to have organized a society here and 
leave the work in your hands; but as you are 
content to remain politically classed with ‘crim- 
inals, paupers and idiots’ I will make no further 
effort at this time.” 

“No epithet or innuendo can obliterate the 
fact that God ‘setteth the solitary in families.’ 
By the divine institution of marriage man and 
woman become one, and thus the race is legally 
perpetuated and the highest earthly happiness is. 
attained. They represent different functions of 
the same body, the family, the unit of society. 
The husband must ‘love his wife even as him- 
self,’ and the wife must ‘reverence her husband’ ; 
and this love, which forms the bond of union 
between them, cannot be cultivated by distrust 
nor determined by legislation. The laws of life 
were fixed by God, and no deviation therefrom 
means advanced thought.” 



CHAPTER XXIV. 


AN INTERVIEW WITH THE STATE CHAIRMAN. 

As the afternoon train pulled out of Macon 
City Mrs. Lokeridge was going homeward. She 
was alone in the seat pondering over the success 
of her meeting and the interview with her class- 
mate, Mrs. Ashley. Although her plans were 
partially defeated, she knew that she had awak- 
ened an interest in that community in the cause 
she represented. She regarded Mrs. Ashley’s op- 
position to the work as an inherited sentimental- 
ism which was frequently found among women 
whose lives were lost in their husbands and chil- 
dren. However, this feeling was to be over- 
come. Her zeal was strengthened as the diffi- 
culties to be met were presented, and she resolved 
to “press on” in the work until victory crowned 
her efforts. 

While she was thus meditating, the chairman 
of the State Central Committee of the Prohibition 
party entered the car. She immediately beck- 
oned to him, saying, as he took a seat beside her. 


208 


She Wanted to Vote. 


“This is an opportune time, indeed; I was just 
considering ways and means by which I could do 
the most effective work during the coming cam- 
paign. While the equal suffrage plank is the one 
which drew me to the party, I have not lost sight 
of the other important questions at issue, and I 
shall present them fully as the campaign pro- 
ceeds.” 

“I am trying now to get our forces into line,” 
he replied, “and arrange to present our cause 
through our best speakers in every locality in the 
state.” 

“That is just why I wished to see you,” said 
she. “I have had a number of calls for speeches 
but desire to plan my work so as not to conflict 
with any of the work of the State Committee. 
Notwithstanding the jeers and opposition of the 
two old parties, I am having large audiences, and 
the people manifest a deep interest in the reforms 
we are seeking to inaugurate.” 

Their mutual interest in the subject led them 
to a very earnest discussion of the situation, and 
before they had formulated any plans the brake- 
man called out “Bridgetown.” Mr. McBride, 
the chairman, changed cars here, and, when he 
learned that he would have to wait more than 
two hours for his train, walked home with Mrs. 


An Interview with the State Chairman . 209 

Lokeridge. When they reached her home, which 
was less than three squares from the station, she 
explained to her mother the importance of the in- 
terview, and requested her to keep the children 
away so they would not be interrupted, for they 
needed every moment of time. 

Little Freddie had seen his mamma coming 
and ran to the house, but when he learned from 
his grandma that she was engaged and that he 
would have to wait awhile before he could see 
her, he was provoked to say, as he threw himself 
on the floor crying, “I wis my mamma had’nt 
tomed home a tall if I tant see her.” 

“What’s the matter now ?” said his papa, who 
had stopped at the house to tell them that he was 
called to the country and would probably not be 
home until very late. “Didn’t your mamma come 
home?” 

“Yes her did, but Dranma says her’s 'gaged 
and I tant see her now.” 

“Where is she?” 

“Her’s in the parlow,” said Freddie, with his 
eyes brightening. 

Doctor Lokeridge immediately turned to the 
parlor and opened the door, but, when he saw 
his wife so completely absorbed in conversation 
with a stranger, he stepped back, wondering what 


210 


She Wanted to Vote. 


weighty problems required such immediate and 
private consideration. He would have gone 
away without interrupting them, but Mrs. Loke- 
ridge observed him as he was closing the door 
and called him back and introduced him to Mr. 
McBride. “W(e are planning the work of our 
people for the coming campaign,” explained Mrs. 
Lokeridge, “and this interview will probably save 
much time and annoyance.” 

“I am glad to know you,” said Mr. McBride. 
“I have known your wife for some time and have 
heard her speak at different places. I am con- 
fident she will be able to do very telling work for 
our party this fall.” 

“Won’t you have a seat?” interrupted Mrs. 
Lokeridge, “you are a voter and should be more 
deeply interested in the work of this campaign 
than I am.” 

“I am more deeply concerned about your work 
at home,” said the Doctor. “I find it very in- 
convenient to keep house without you; and, in 
your zeal for equal suffrage do not forget that 
you owe something to your home and family 
as well as to the cause or party you are support- 
ing.” 

“The campaign only lasts a few weeks,” re- 
marked the chairman, “and I desire that she 


An Interview with the State Chairman. 211 

shall make all the engagements she can meet. 
Her work alone has been very efficient, but we 
are planning for her to speak at all the county 
seats and a number of the larger towns in this 
congressional district with your candidate for 
congress, Hon. Roy Stanley. We hope in this 
way to draw larger crowds and make more 
votes.” 

Dr. Lokeridge turned slightly pale and be- 
trayed feelings of displeasure, but made no re- 
ply. “I have just been called to come quickly 
to a country home twelve miles distant,” he said, 
“and I must bid you good evening, and go at 
once.” 

Mr. McBride’s observing eye saw the change 
of expresssion on the Doctor’s face, and he feared 
that Mrs. Lokeridge’s work would be impeded 
by his disapproval. He was unacquainted with 
the past amicable relations of Mrs. Lokeridge 
and Roy Stanley, and could only attribute the 
Doctor’s actions to his strong opposition to his 
wife’s absence from home. 

“Your husband, I believe,” remarked Mr. 
McBride, “is not in sympathy with this move- 
ment.” 

“No, he is not, but that will neither frus- 


212 


She Wanted to Vote . 


trate nor defeat my plans. I am not governed 
by his domestic whims. ,, 

“Then I can publish the announcements as 
agreed upon, and send out bills advertising meet- 
ings for your self and the Hon. Roy Stanley ?” 

“Yes, sir, and I will make the canvass.” 

It was now only a few minutes until time 
for Mr. McBride’s train and he left satisfied that 
he had done a good work for his party in com- 
pleting the arrangements for this joint can- 


vass. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


UNPLEASANT ASSOCIATIONS. 

It was midnight when Doctor Lokeridge re- 
turned from his visit to the country. Every- 
body in the house was asleep. He was tired and 
much troubled about his patient, who he knew 
could live but a few days. He sat down in a 
large easy chair to rest a few moments before 
retiring. His work and responsibilities seemed to 
weigh heavier upon him than ever before, and he 
longed for the ysmpathy and support of his wife. 
He was really more worried than he would even 
admit to himself, over the plan suggested by Mr. 
McBride for the campaign work. He knew her 
mind would be taxed with her own work and 
she could not share with him the common re- 
sponsibilities incident to the household. His 
heart was also burdened with a feeling akin to 
jealousy. He did not doubt his wife’s fidelity, 
but he was not quite liberal enough to deny him- 
self of her companisonship in order that she 
might go with another man to make a political 


214 


She Wanted to Vote. 


canvass for any party or principle. His love was 
chilled by her willingness to leave home and chil- 
dren and he wrestled with real and imaginary per- 
plexities until near three o’clock in the morning, 
when he lay down on the couch and fell asleep. 

The next morning at the breakfast table was 
the first time the family had been together 
since Mrs. Lokeridge returned from her engage- 
ment at Macon City. Frank was very talkative, 
and began asking questions before they were 
scarcely seated. “Will you give us a report of 
your meeting, Margaret?” he inquired. “Tell 
us how many were out to hear your most ex- 
cellent speech.” 

“Oh, yes. The house was literally packed. 
There was not even standing room left, and it 
was reported that many were turned away.” 

“I am glad to know that you are always 
greeted with a large audience,” said the Doctor, 
“and I am very proud of your intellect ; but your 
reputation as a speaker does not repress my 
desire to have you at home with me and the chil- 
dren. I never knew how badly you were needed 
until we have been keeping house without you.” 

“The proper estimate is rarely placed upon 
woman until she avers her independence and 


Unpleasant Associations. 215 

leaves man to look after some of the bewildering 
cares which custom has assigned to woman.” 

“You speak as one who has just been lib- 
erated from bondage. I trust the care of our lit- 
tle ones has not been a bewildering care, nor your 
household duties a burden. Do you hope to 
purify social conditions by leaving our children 
to be instructed by strangers?” 

“My absence from home is of short duration,” 
she replied, “and what I may do for the good of 
others will be helping them.” 

“When the domestic tranquility of two homes 
is disturbed by this joint canvass, I think the 
good effect upon our children will be remote 
and infinitesimally small.” Hestitating a mo- 
ment, he pushed back his plate, before he had 
scarcely tasted his breakfast and looked at Mar- 
garet with an appealing, tender expression. 

“Mamma, Mamma,” exclaimed Freddie, 
breaking the silence, “who was that man that 
homed home wis you?” 

“One of her advisory friends, I would guess,” 
said Frank. “Some man who knows more about 
her duty than you do, Doctor.” 

“You should not make such irritating re- 
marks,” said his mother. “Margaret was sim- 


216 


She Wanted to Vote . 


ply planning with the chairman of the State Cen- 
tral Committee her work for the campiagn. Re- 
member she has honored the Blanden name, 
while you have only brought disgrace and shame. 

Frank had been drinking too freely to be 
daunted by this remark, and replied sarcastically, 
“Yes, and if she continues to leave her kids and 
to push them away from her, their lives will be 
as worthless as mine and may reflect the same 
kind of a shadow upon the family that I do.” 

The Doctor and Mrs. Lokeridge left the table 
and went to the study. She was buoyant with 
the prospect of employment, notoriety and good 
pay, while he was despondent and greatly ag- 
gravated with the existing conditions in their 
family. He was not now very communicative, 
for she had evaded the question that was up- 
permost in his mind. Looking at his watch, he 
saw that he was soon due at the office, and asked 
her, “What conclusion did you reach about the 
proposed congressional canvass ?” 

“I agreed to make it according to the plan 
stated to you by Mr. McBride, and Mr. Stanley 
and I will open the campaign at Charlotteville 
two weeks from today. I can do more in a few 
weeks to aid the cause of suffrage and the Pro- 
hibition party, by this arrangement, than could 


Unpleasant Associations. 


217 


be accomplished by any other method of work 
in as many months There is no doubt but that 
we shall have a larger hearing than could be 
otherwise obtained. 

“Perhaps you will,” replied the Doctor, “but 
I think it is a very bad precedent.” 

“We are striving for victory and not to es- 
tablish precedents. The Twentieth Century 
Woman can take care of herself. I know my 
power in the political field, and I shall do what- 
ever I think best for the cause I represent.” 

Doctor Lokeridge was not a contentious man. 
Although he felt himself humiliated by the defi- 
ant attitude of his wife, he made no further ef- 
fort to change her course; but bravely concealed 
his wrath and allowed her the last word. He 
was passing through the hall on his way to the 
office when Frank, who had overheard the con- 
versation, called out in a drunken voice, “You 
might as well yield, Doc, for no person has yet 
been able to squelch her plans.” 







































CHAPTER XXVI. 


THE STRANGE GRANDMA. 

The second day after Mrs. Lokeridge re- 
turned from Macon City the Doctor observed that 
she was packing her valise before breakfast, and 
inquired, “ Where are you going?” 

“I am going to a district convention of suf- 
fragists, where I speak tonight.” 

“How long do you expect to be gone? Bes- 
sie is not well this morning, and I hope you will 
not worry her with your absence.” 

“There is nothing serious the matter with 
her,” replied Mrs. Lokeridge, “and mother will 
see that she is well cared for. However, I will 
not be gone more than a week if I am not al- 
ready billed to speak at a number of points talked 
of before I made the arrangement for the joint 
canvass. I shall know by tomorrow and will 
then write you.” 

Doctor Lokeridge was powerless to change 
her plans. He was weary of persuasion and un- 
able to force, so he bravely submitted without a 


220 


She Wanted to Vote. 


quarrel or dispute; and after stopping with Bes- 
sie for a few moments, left the house to make his 
morning calls. When he had gone, Mrs. Loke- 
ridge called her mother to Bessie’s room to con- 
sult with her. “What do you think of Bessie’s 
condition, mother?” 

“She has only a slight attack of indigestion, 
and will be over it in a few hours. Do not give 
yourself the least bit of anxiety. You must not 
allow the little ailments of your children to hinder 
your work. You are representing a worthy 
cause and have a bright future before you.” 

“I had no thought of not going, but I am 
glad you think there is no danger.” 

“You could not afford to disappoint the au- 
dience you will have tonight. Aunt Maria has 
announced that you will be present and speak 
and she would be very indignant if you failed to 
be there.” 

“There is the cab now,” remarked Mrs. Loke- 
ridge. 

“Mother, get my valise and that package of 
papers lying on the table. Good bye, Freddie; 
good bye, Bessie,” she said as she kissed them. 
“Mamma will be back in a few days.” Freddie 
no longer cried when his mamma left, and when 
little Bessie began crying so hard he gave her all 


The Strange Grandma. 


221 


his own playthings. He even brought his hobby 
horse into the room and hitched it up for her, 
saying: “Here, Bethy, you can dive and I’ll 
play like this stick is my horse.” 

Bessie was too sick just then to play. Her 
fever made her stupid, and she soon dozed off 
to sleep. 

“You run out and play,” said his Grandma 
Blanden, “and let Bessie sleep. She will feel 
better then.” 

He went to the kitchen where Susan, the 
housekeeper, was busy making a cake. “I want 
to make a take, too,” said he, as he picked up 
a wash-hand basin and spoon, which were on the 
table 

Susan gave him no attention until he had 
emptied some flour and a cup of molasses into 
the basin, where he was mixing them with his 
hands when she observed him and exclaimed, 
“Oh! you little wretch, what are you doing?” 

“I’se makin, a take, too,” he innocently re- 
plied. 

“Well, you’ll get out of that mess this 
minute or I’ll take your head off. 

This frightened Freddie, and he began wiping 
his hands on the clean apron his grandma had 
put on him that morning. 


222 


She Wanted to Vote . 


“Get out of this,” commanded Susan, “and 
go show your granma what a fix you’re in.” 

He left the kitchen, but instead of going to 
his grandma, went to the well, where he found 
a bucket of water and was trying to wash the 
flour and molasses off of his apron when his 
grandma called, “Freddie, where are you?” 

“Here I is,” he answered, as he continued 
pouring water down his apron. 

“What meanness are you in now?” said she 
as she approached him. 

“I ’tan’t dit it off, dranma; it’s just as fast.” 

“You little rascal, you march right in the 
house. You have spoiled your clean clothes and 
you shall stay in with me the rest of the day.” 

“I didn’t mean to, dranma; I’se sorry.” 

The punishment of staying in the house was 
very severe for Freddie. He was an active child, 
who loved to play out of doors, and when his 
grandma seated him in a chair, he began crying 
and begged to get down. 

“I’ll be a dood boy, dranma, if you’ll please 
let me do in the yard.” 

“No, positively you cannot go; and you must 
be quiet and not bother me all the time.” 

Freddie knew he would have to do just as 
his Grandma Blanden told him, and he leaned 


The Strange Grandma . 


223 


back in the chair and sobbed himself to sleep 
and slept until his papa came to dinner. 

“What is the matter with my boy?” said the 
Doctor, rubbing his hand over the little dirty 
face that so plainly showed signs of tears. Grand- 
ma Blanden told him what Freddie had done and 
how very naughty he had been before Freddie 
was fairly awake, and concluded by saying, “If 
he was my boy I would switch him good for 
being so meddlesome” 

“Yes, but I’se not her boy, is I, papa?” said 
Freddie, rubbing his eyes. 

“No, you are papa’s own boy, but papa does 
not want you to be a bad boy and cause grandma 
trouble.” 

“I did not mean to, papa, Fse sorry.” 

“Papa is going to the country this afternoon, 
and if grandma will get you ready before din- 
ner you may go with me.” 

“Come on, Freddie,” said his grandma, pull- 
ing him with her. “I am only too glad to have 
you go. He will be ready in good time.” 

Bessie was much better and was so glad to see 
her papa that she would not allow anyone else to 
do anything for her while he remained in the 
house. When he and Freddie started to the coun- 
try she cried so pitifully for her mamma that 


224 


She Wanted to Vote. 


Susan left the dinner work and carried her out in 
the yard and gave her flowers, telling her that 
“baby should go in the buggy, too, when mamma 
comes back. ,, 

It was a beautiful September day and Fred- 
die enjoyed the drive as much as one so young 
as he was capable of doing. He asked so many 
questions about the “sheeps and tows and dooses” 
and everything else that he saw that the Doctor 
wondered if there was a limit to his inquisitive- 
ness. When they reached the country home 
where he had been called, he left Freddie in the 
buggy and went into the house, but before he 
was seated the good old mother inquired, “Is that 
your child in the buggy ?” 

“Yes, that is Freddie, my little boy.” 

“Why in the world didn’t you fetch him in 
the house?” 

“I thought it unnecessary; he is perfectly safe 
there.” 

“Go fetch him right in, Barbara,” she said to 
her youngest daughter, a young lady of nine- 
teen, who immediately carried him to the door. 

“Give him here to me,” said her mother. “I 
know he is tired and hot. Come here — let 
granma fan you.” 


The Strange Grandma. 


225 


“Is you my dranma, too?” said Freddie, look- 
ing straight into her face. 

“I’m not your real grandma, but I love 
little boys like you and I want them to love me 
and call me grandma. I just want to squeeze 
them up in my arms and get some baby kisses* 
as I used to when my boys were little.” 

“Has you dot some little boys?” 

“No, honey, my boys have all growed up and 
gone away and left us. I once had a little boy 
named Freddie, but he is a great big man now 
and lives away off from me. He is a preacher 
in a large city and can’t come back to see me but 
once a year. Here, Barb’ra, bring in some fresh 
water. I know this child wants a drink.” 

“Yes, I'm so firsty — Oh, look, papa,” he 
cried, jumping down and running to the door. 
“See that big wooster,” pointing to a large tur- 
key gobbler in the yard. “See him, papa, see 
him !” and the turkey gave a loud gobble, fright- 
ening Freddie so that he ran back and said* 
“Papa, the wooster is talking to you.” 

“Come to me, darling,” said this new grand- 
ma, “and let me tell you about my little Freddie. 
He used to be afraid of turkeys and would hang 
to my dress and cry when they came close to 


226 


She Wanted to Vote. 


him, but he’s outgrowed that; you won’t be 
afraid when you are older.” 

“He is scared, Barbara; take him out in the 
orchard and get him some of the very best apples 
we have to take home with him. Don’t let him 
eat too many. You had better get him some 
bread and butter first, and then he won’t care so 
much for apples.” 

“I am afraid you are troubling yourself with 
that boy,” said the Doctor, who was not accus- 
tomed to see his children humored and petted. 

“Indeed, I’m not,” replied the grandma. “A 
little child makes me think of a tender plant in 
my garden, the better it is cared for the prettier 
it is, and I never think it trouble to do anything 
that adds to their pleasure, for it only makes them 
better.” 

“How many children have you?” the Doctor 
inquired, while examining the one lying sick. 

“We have raised six, and tried hard to do our 
duty by them. God blessed us with them, and 
I have always been happy in the care of them.” 

“The world would be filled with better men 
and women if more mothers would take the same 
view of things that you do,” thoughtfully replied 
the Doctor. He talked with this grandma for 
some time after he had prescribed for the patient, 






































































































































































































































































“ You're the best dranma I've dot, tause you love little boys, 
don't you?" (p. 227.) 





The Strange Grandma . 227 

but, having a number of other calls to make, he 
was not privileged to visit longer. “I must be 
going/’ he said. “I wonder where my boy is?” 

Freddie was in the orchard with Barbara en- 
joying his freedom to the fullest extent, and was 
in no hurry to go back home. When his papa 
called him he would say: “Wait. I’m a 
turnin’.” But he did not go until this strange 
grandma went out where he was and coaxed him 
with cookies, apples and flowers, and promised 
him that he might come again. When at last 
they were ready to leave he put his baby arms 
around her neck and said affectionately, “You’re 
the best dranma I’ve dot, tause you love little 
boys, don’t you?” 










CHAPTER XXVII. 


INCIDENTS OF THE JOINT CANVASS. 

A political campaign has become a dreaded 
period in American politics. Not that our sys- 
tem of government is defective, but because so 
many voters are more concerned about the suc- 
cess of their party than the principles in which 
they really believe. There is no form of govern- 
ment more just than a government of the people, 
by the people, and for the people, but in reality 
this form of government cannot be maintained 
if partisanship or personal interest supersedes 
patriotism. 

The election day was drawing near and party 
spirit was very intense. Women as well as men 
were very bitter in their denunciation of oppos- 
ing political parties. Pictures of candidates were 
seen in almost every home. In the cottage, the 
mansion and the poorest tenement houses could 
be seen the picture of their party representative, 
and no one objected to this common custom when 
it was their own candidate. In many homes, 


230 


She Wanted to Vote. 


where the husband and wife disagreed politically, 
they would each put up the picture of their re- 
spective candidates and read their own party 
papers. Neighbors would hurl bitter epithets at 
each other and diligently search the papers for 
the latest report of some unscrupulous political 
scheme to secure votes, that they might taunt with 
one more party offense. With this ardent zeal 
for party and power, the people were wild with 
enthusiasm for the success of their candidates. 
Business was neglected, homes were divided, 
health was impaired and honor was sacrificed by 
the work done to secure votes. Each party pro- 
cured the most brilliant and able speakers. 

Mrs. Lokeridge was a gifted speaker, and her 
services were sought at many places she could not 
go because of her engagement to make the con- 
gressional canvass. Her appointments had kept 
her away from home for more than two weeks, 
but, preparatory to some special work to be done 
the last days of the campaign, she spent a few 
days at the home of her family. During this 
short stay at home and while under the burden 
of this special work she made it a rule to spend 
just one hour each day with her children. She 
would play with them and often took them walk- 
ing or driving. She cheerfully gave them this 


Incidents of the Joint Canvass. 231 

hour, but was very exacting about the limit of 
time. As soon as the hour was passed she sent 
them away and did not see them again during 
the day, excepting at the table. She wished them 
to be well cared for, but, in her position, it was 
impossible to give them any more attention. 
Every duty was secondary to making votes. She 
was determined to make the congressional vote 
of the Prohibition party larger than ever before 
in that district. This was an herculean task, 
when love for party so completely crushed out 
love for temperance. When Christian men say, 
“I believe in prohibition but cannot vote for it,” 
the difficulty of arousing people to immediate ac- 
tion is greatly increased. 

But no one can know the result of an election 
until the votes are counted, and it was upon this 
theory that Mrs. Lokeridge, with her co-laborer, 
Mr. Stanley, punctually met all their engage- 
ments and spoke with a determination to move 
the people to express their honest convictions on 
election day regardless of former party affili- 
ations. 

They were speaking twice a day in order to 
reach all the smaller towns, and would frequently 
have to drive from one place to another after the 
speaking in the afternoon that they might fill 


232 


She Wanted to Vote. 


their engagement for a night meeting. In one 
instance dates were unfortunately arranged. A 
meeting had been billed for a small town the 
night before a rally was to be held at Koran, the 
largest city in the district. These points were 
twenty-five miles apart, and there was no train 
by which they could reach Koran until noon the 
next day. They must be at the rally and they 
dare not disappoint the people of the country to 
fill an engagement in the city. They talked over 
the matter and she finally suggested : “This will 
be a beautiful moonlight night. Let us take a 
carriage and be driven to Koran after the speak- 
ing to-night.” 

“Brave woman,” he replied, “to be willing to 
endure such a tiresome trip at that time of night. 
It will be eleven o’clock before we can leave this 
place.” 

“I hope you do not look upon our situation 
with as much anxiety as your countenance por- 
trays,” she said, laughingly. “I am quite sure 
I shall not hesitate to go. The drive will be a 
pleasant one if we will only make it so.” 

“Well, we will make the best of it, and start 
immediately after the speaking,” he replied. 

The crowd was late gathering at the village 
and much time was lost on account of a disturb- 


Incidents of the Joint Canvass. 233 

in g element just outside the building. Soon 
after the meeting was called to order brick-bats 
were thrown against the windows, breaking a 
number of glass, and when Mrs. Lokeridge arose 
to speak rotten eggs were hurled through the 
windows at her, until she was struck at the side 
of the head and the contents of the egg satu- 
rated her clothing. Then in tones of anger she 
exclaimed, “Will the manhood of this community 
let such villainous conduct pass unrebuked ? Will 
you sit in silence and see a woman make the vic- 
tim of such a nasty, cowardly act? If not, arise, 
and, with whatever force is necessary, drive them 
away or compel them to properly conduct them- 
selves.” 

The conscientious advocates of prohibition 
needed no further encouragement, but started 
after the offenders in such furore that they fled 
hastily, hiding in cellars or any other place of 
refuge available. Officers were notified, but it 
was so near election day that they made no ar- 
rests for fear of losing votes. Prohibition was 
unpopular in that community, as the conduct of 
these offenders would indicate all other moral 
reforms to be, but the few who had the strength 
of character to vote for the abolition of the 
saloon also had the courage to secure for their 


234 


She Wanted to Vote. 


speakers a respectful hearing. It was near ten 
o'clock when the audience became quiet. Every- 
body was excited; but the faithful workers were 
determined to go on with the meeting. Mrs. 
Lokeridge spoke more than one hour, followed 
by Mr. Stanley, who spoke more than half that 
time. It was twelve o'clock when the meeting 
adjourned and they started to Koran. 

Although the early part of the evening was 
clear and warm, a dark cloud was rising in the 
west and the sound of distant thunder and keen 
flashes of lightning warned them of an approach- 
ing storm. These threatening elements did not 
restrain their determination to be at Koran in 
time for the parade at ten o’clock in the morning, 
and they ordered the driver to go with all pos- 
sible speed. The night grew darker as the clouds 
came over them and the horses trembled with 
fear at the loud crashes of thunder. At last the 
lightning was so vivid that the horses turned to 
one side of the road and refused to go further. 
The driver vigorously used the whip, but all in 
vain; it simply added fury to their excitement 
and caused them to become vicious. Seeing that 
this method was wrong, he went to their heads 
and held them by the bit, coaxing and petting 
them until the storm had abated and they could 


Incidents of the Joint Canvass. 235 - 

drive on. Mrs. Lokeridge and Mr. Stanley were 
comfortably seated in the back seat of the car- 
riage and well protected from the rain by the 
heavy curtains, and, aside from their anxiety on 
account of the severity of the storm and the 
fright of the horses, they were unharmed by the 
long, dark drive. They reached Koran about 
five o’clock the next morning and went to the 
hotel, where they rested until time to join the 
parade. 

The news reached Doctor Lokeridge a few 
minutes before the train left Bridgetown for 
Koran that Mrs. Lokeridge was overtaken by the 
storm on her way there and that she was prob- 
ably seriously injured. He left on the nine a. m. 
train and reached Koran about half past ten. He 
started, to see her at the hotel where they were 
stopping, but when he was less than half a square 
away he saw a handsome cab, decorated with the 
emblems of American patriotism, drive away with 
Mrs. Lokeride and Mr. Stanley and the Mayor 
and his wife. The band led the procession, play- 
ing patriotic airs, and everybody was craning his 
neck to see the speakers. Doctor Lokeridge 
seated himself on the veranda of the hotel, hoping 
he would meet his wife there when she came 
back, for it was very important that he return 


*236 


She Wanted to Vote . 


home on the train which left Koran at twelve 
o’clock. The parade passed up Main street and 
back by the hotel to the grove where Stanley was 
to speak that morning. The band was playing 
“Home, Sweet Home,” by request. This was to 
impress the sacredness of their mission to work 
for the protection of home; but Doctor Loke- 
ridge, in his isolated condition, did not appreci- 
ate the music nor approve their method of home 
protection. He was disappointed in not having 
an opportunity to talk with his wife, but, learning 
that she was unharmed, he made no further at- 
tempt to see her during his limited time in the 
city. 

The day was bright, and a large number of 
people came out to hear the speaking. Many 
converts were made to the cause of prohibition, 
and, notwithstanding the extreme opposition of 
the other parties, the meeting was a great success. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


UNEXPECTED COMPANY. 

The campaign was nearing its close and there 1 
was no intermission in the work of Mrs. Loke- 
ridge. For a time we will leave her to meet her 
engagements and go with the Doctor to the Loke- 
ridge home. Since the business of Mrs. Loke- 
ridge kept her away so much of the time, the 
Doctor made it a rule, when called from the city, 
to stop at home the first place upon his return. 
It was near two o’clock in the afternoon when he 
reached the house on his return from Koran. 
Freddie ran to meet him, saying, “I’se glad you’e 
tomed home, papa, tause Susan says her’s doin' 
off, too.” 

“I think not,” replied his papa. “She would 
certainly not leave when your grandma is away.” 

“Yes her is,” insisted Freddie. “Her’3 
weddy now.” In a few moments after the Doc- 
tor came in Susan appeared in her best dress and 
Freddie’s statement was confirmed. 

“What’s up now?” inquired the Doctor. 


238 


She Wanted to Vote. 


“I am going to a labor union meeting at Chi- 
cago.” 

“But Mother Blanden has gone to the State 
Meeting of the Woman’s Relief Corps and will 
not be home for a week. Who will do the house- 
work and take care of the children?” 

“Everything is in order and I have done up 
the baking and fixed things so you can do the 
work yourself, sir.” 

“The deuce I can. When will I have time 
to do the housework? What did you intend to 
do with the children if I had not come?” 

“Leave them with their Uncle Frank, sir. 
There is no use in your talking. I tell you I 
will not miss the meeting; laboring people must 
stand together.” 

When she left the house the Doctor hunted 
the children’s hats and took them with him to 
make his afternoon calls. It was late before he 
had seen all of his patients, the children were 
very tired and both of them fell asleep as they 
were driving along the street. When he reached 
his office Freddie woke up crying, but Bessie 
slept so soundly he carried her upstairs and laid 
her down where she could finish her nap. 

Several people were awaiting his return and 
he did not observe the telegram from Robert 


Unexpected Company . 239 

Ashley lying on the table until the office boy came 
in and called his attention to it. He quickly 
opened the message and read: “Mrs. Ashley, 
myself and children will be with you to-night.” 
“Be with us to-night,” said he aloud. “I’m in a 
h — 1 of a fix to receive company with not a wo- 
man in the house. Even the confounded cook 
is away. I would anticipate a pleasant visit if 
the women of my household could leave their 
abominable organizations long enough to help me 
entertain them.” The Doctor was enraged. He 
thought it a very annoying predicament for a man 
in his station. An elegant home, bountifully 
supplied in every department, a place where he 
would have been proud to take his friends had 
it been graced by the presence of a woman, but 
without even the assistance, of a hired cook he 
felt his inability to make their visit a pleasant 
one. But, notwithstanding the situation, he 
knew the train was due at eight o’clock, and 
courtesy demanded that he meet them at the sta- 
tion. 

When he had prescribed for his patients at 
the office he and the children went to the station. 
Just as they reached the platform the train pulled 
in and in a few moments the Ashley family ap- 
peared. Little Bessie was very badly frightened 


If 


24:0 She Wanted to Vote. 

by the noise and the presence of so many strange 
faces, and when Mrs. Ashley spoke to her she was 
sobbing bitterly. 

“What is the matter, deary ?” asked Mrs. 
Ashley in her kindly way. “Are you afraid of 
the cars?” 

“She waked up rather suddenly,” replied the 
Doctor, “and I think she is only frightened a 
little. Come this way, please; my carriage is 
here on the corner.” 

“I am glad to see you again after our long 
separation,” said Robert Ashley. “I presume you 
are getting your share of the pleasures and profits 
of this world?” 

“I am certainly working hard enough to have 
plenty of both,” he earnestly replied. 

“How is Mrs. Lokeridge?” inquired Mrs. 
Ashley. 

“I suppose she is well,” replied the Doctor. 
“I have not heard from her to-day.” 

“Is she away now?” 

“Oh, yes, she has not been at home for more 
than two weeks. She is speaking twice every 
day.” 

“Indeed ! Then I am afraid we are intrud- 
ing.” 

“I am glad to have you come,” he replied as 


Unexpected Company . 241 

cheerfully as possible under the circumstances. 
“I am not situated just as I would like to be to 
make your visit pleasant for you. However, the 
real pleasure of your company will be much ap- 
preciated. I am blessed with everything I need 
but women who have time to bestow on the 
home.” 

“Ha, ha!” laughed Robert Ashley, slapping 
him on the shoulder. “We have often discussed 
the question of women in public life and in the 
home. Now we can both speak from experience. 
Your wife is heard from the rostrum and mine 
at the fireside. Are you more content with your 
blessings than I am with mine?” 

“I am unable to measure your happiness, sir. 
I confess my situation at present is not an envi- 
able one, but ” 

“Pardon me, Doctor, if you feel I was tan- 
talizing,” interrupted Mr. Ashley, who saw by 
the change of expression on the Doctor’s counte- 
nance that he had touched a tender chord of his 
existence. 

Before the effect of this remark had fairly 
passed away they reached the hotel. “My house- 
keeper,” explained the Doctor, “went away this 
afternoon to attend a labor union meeting, and. 


242 


She Wanted to Vote. 


as I have been unable to secure help, I have ar- 
ranged to take our meals here.” 

“Are you without the assistance of even a 
cook or nurse girl?” asked Mrs. Ashley. 

“Myself and children are all of the family 
who are at home. My wife, mother-in-law and 
cook are all gone.” 

Mrs. Ashley was a sensible woman, who 
viewed the situation from an economic standpoint 
and knew their visit was an unfortunate affair 
for the Doctor. She did not want to burden him 
with the unnecessary expense of boarding at the 
hotel, but said nothing against the arrangement 
for supper. Her little girls, Rose and Belle, were 
near the age of Bessie and Freddie Lokeridge, 
and by her motherly devices she soon had them 
all playing nicely together. When they went to 
the table she took charge of all the children, and 
kept up such an interesting conversation that the 
embarrassing situation was, in a measure, for- 
gotten. 

After they had eaten supper they left the hotel 
and went to* the Lokeridge residence. It was 
dark and uninviting, but it was the Doctor's 
home, where he must entertain his company. He 
opened the door, lighted the gas in the hall and 


Unexpected Company. 


243 


passed on into the parlor, where the room was 
soon made light and cheery. 

“I see you have a beautiful home,” saidT^r. 
Ashley. “I would judge you have had your 
share of prosperity.” 

“I guess I have,” he hesitatingly replied. 

“Papa, papa,” cried Bessie, “I’se teepy. Take 
me. 

“Come to me, let me rock you,” said Mrs. 
Ashley, holding out her hands. 

“But you’s my mamma,” said little Belle, as 
she climbed on her mamma’s lap. 

“I know I am your mamma, dear, but you 
will let me rock little Bessie, won’t you? Her 
mamma is gone.” 

When Mrs. Ashley had thus reasoned with 
her she ran to Bessie and took her by the hand, 
saying, “Tome to my mamma; her’ll wock you.” 

In a short time little Bessie was fast asleep 
in the arms of Mrs. Ashley, but she, being a 
stranger in the house, did not know where to lay 
her or how to prepare her for the night. Pres- 
ently she spoke to the Doctor, saying, “Shall I 
prepare Bessie for bed?” 

The Doctor looked embarrassed and pro- 
voked beyond expression, but no word betrayed 
his feelings. “Pardon me. I did not notice 


2 44 


She Wanted to Vote . 


that she was asleep. I wish, if you please, you 
would do so, and if you will excuse me I will 
look after the sleeping apartments. ,, 

After he had left the room Mrs. Ashley spoke 
confidingly to her husband: “I am truly sorry 
we stopped off here. The Doctor is so pained 
over his situation. I do wish I could make him 
feel more comfortable.” 

“I do not regret that we stopped,” replied Mr. 
Ashley. “I am glad to see him. I think such a 
ridiculous predicament of the home that is 
neglected for outside work or organizations 
should be exposed.” 

“I quite agree with you, but he is not re- 
sponsible for conditions here.” 

“The Doctor is a home man,” said Mr. Ash- 
ley, “very devoted to his family, and the humili- 
ation probes as deeply as the inconvenience.” 

“Well,” said she, “I will relieve him by as- 
suming as many household duties as I can con- 
sistently. This is certainly a lesson for women. 
The mission of a housekeeper, in my mind, is 
greatly exalted; and I am more fully convinced 
than ever that the home is the throne for 
mothers.” 

“Right you are, my dear,” said her husband 
affectionately. “Your sweet spirit of contentment 


Unexpected Company. 245 

in our home has been the greatest blessing of my 
life.” 

Although they had been married for several 
years, they were always as lovers. They were 
companions in the truest sense. They were sel- 
dom separated except during the business hours 
of the day. Contentment, love and peace reigned 
within their home, and no happiness was greater 
to either of them than that of serving the other. 
They were philanthropic people, but they never 
neglected their vows before God to love and serve 
each other. 

When Doctor Lokeridge returned to the par- 
lor he said to Robert, “Your room is now ready 
if you wish to retire. The children are all 
sleepy.” 

“If you will permit me,” said Mrs. Ashley, 
“I will put the children to bed and you and Rob- 
ert may remain and chat awhile.” 

ct I should enjoy the privilege very much, but 
I must not impose such duties upon my visitors.” 

“It is no imposition at all. It is only a pleas- 
ure to me to be able to assist you.” 

“I assure you she will give them more atten- 
tion than they need,” said Mr. Ashley. “Come, 
sit down; let us improve our time.” 

“I guess I have the Doctor’s consent,” said 


246 


She Wanted to Vote . 


Mrs. Ashley, smiling, and she bade them good- 
night and departed with the children. They 
were soon all snugly tucked in their little beds, 
and, when they were fast asleep, she knelt by the 
open window, where she gazed out on the starlit 
heaven and thanked God more earnestly than ever 
before for the blessings of a good mother who 
taught, both by precept and example, that wo- 
man’s divine mission is that of looking after the 
general welfare of the home. 

Long after Mrs. Ashley had retired for the 
night the Doctor and Mr. Ashley continued their 
conversation. They recalled many incidents in 
their college life which gave them a very hearty 
laugh, but as the midnight hour drew near and 
everybody became quiet, they grew more con- 
fiding and unbosomed many of their experiences 
in life. 

‘Til tell you, Robert,” said the Doctor famil- 
iarly, “my patience has been so tried within the 
last few years that I am almost discouraged with 
my life.” 

“That is rather a sad condition, my friend. 
W)hat has so sorely tried you?” 

“It seems to me that is an unnecessary ques- 
tion. The deserted condition of my home is not 
your ideal state of happiness, is it?” 


Unexpected Company. 


247 


“I cannot say that it is; but this must be an 
exceptional instance.” 

“It is only one of the many common instances. 
Politics, clubs, unions and the various organiza- 
tions consume so much time of women that I am 
even unable to hire a faithful housekeeper. The 
children are shifted about from one person to 
another and looked upon as a nuisance. Every 
household care is treated as a grievous burden. 
What to do I don’t know.” 

This honest expression from the heart of Doc- 
tor Lokeridge came so unexpectedly to Robert 
that for several minutes he sat silently thinking 
over the question. Just what to say to a man 
under these circumstances would bewilder the 
most careful thinker. He did not want to say 
anything that would increase the differences be^ 
tween him and his wife; and yet, he would not 
endorse their way of living. “Have you talked 
over this matter with your wife?” he finally in- 
quired. “Perhaps you can reason with and con- 
vince her that she is pursuing the wrong course.” 

“Convince a hurricane! She is so infatuated 
with public work that she argues it is a duty she 
owes to humanity. If you think it a pleasant 
affair to have your wife traveling around with 
another man, trying to secure her rights and save 


248 


She Wanted to Vote . 


the country from some great evil, try the ex- 
periment.” 

Robert could not refrain from laughing, 
although he knew it was a very serious matter. 
“I do not understand Stanley’s course,” he said 
at last. “He was so prejudiced against women 
speaking in public when we were all in college 
that he refused to hear Mrs. Lokeridge on two 
different occasions.” 

“What! Do you tell that from your own 
personal knowledge?” 

“I do. And I can also tell you from my 
personal knowledge that his own wife is not 
allowed to take a prominent part even in the work 
of her own church.” 

“He’s an infamous rascal!” excitedly ex- 
claimed the Doctor. “He is using Mrs. Loke- 
ridge’s ability for his own personal interests and 
not that he believes women in politics will save 
the nation from ruin.” 

Just then footsteps were heard in the hall, 
and, turning around, they saw Mrs. Ashley just 
as she came in the door. “Please come upstairs 
quickly,” said she. “Bessie is choking with the 
croup. I am afraid she will smother to death.” 

They instantly ran to her and Mrs. Ashley 
took her on her lap. They worked with her for 


Unexpected Company . 


249 


some time before she was sufficiently relieved to 
sleep. It was now past three o’clock in the morn- 
ing and neither the Doctor nor Mr. Ashley had 
had any sleep. The Doctor was restless and 
very nervous. He needed rest badly, and Mrs. 
Ashley assumed the care of Bessie and let him go 
away where everything was quiet. It was very 
late the next morning when they awoke. Bessie 
was not able to be taken from the house, so Rob- 
ert Ashley insisted that they take their breakfast 
there at home. “Grace,” he said, meaning his 
wife, “will prepare a nice little breakfast for us 
if you will permit her to go to the kitchen. I 
will vouch for her cooking.” 

It seemed the best thing to do, although it 
was exasperating to the Doctor. He knew the 
larder and the kitchen needed nothing except 
willing hands to do the work ; but to have an old 
friend, who had never before visited him, prepare 
their meals was extremely mortifying. Mrs. 
Ashley soon proved her skill in the kitchen by 
the very palatable meal she had prepared. She 
knew how to cook, and was so proud of her abil- 
ity in that direction that she looked upon cooking 
as an enjoyable occupation rather than a drudg- 
ery. She gave the kitchen and dining-room such 
a homelike appearance that the unpleasant fea- 


250 


She Wanted to Vote. 


tures of the occasion were lost sight of in the 
enjoyment of the children at the morning meal. 
During her short visit the home was brightened 
by her presence and the children had learned to 
love her. When they left on the afternoon train 
Bessie cried and little Freddie asked repeat edly r 
“Won’t you tome back and stay wif us?” 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


THE STANLEY HOME. 

Doctor Lokeridge wrote to his wife, telling 
her of his effort to see her at Koran, and gave 
her a detailed account of his experiences in enter- 
taining company without the help of a woman. 
She received the letter just before they left Las- 
etto on their way to Macon City, where Stanley 
lived, but had no opportunity to read it until they 
were on the train. When she had finished read- 
ing the letter she handed it to Mr. Stanley, who 
occupied the seat with her, saying : “This letter 
tells a capital joke on my husband. Mr. and 
Mrs. Robert Ashley have been visiting him and 
he was without even a cook. It would be inter- 
esting to know Mr. Ashley's opinion of the Doc- 
tor's predicament ; he is such an old fogy. Don’t 
you remember his peculiar prejudices against wo- 
men in public life when we were all in college?" 

When Mr. Stanley had read the letter and 
noted the numerous complaints the Doctor had 
made about his unsatisfactory way of living, he 
remarked : “Such pessimistic letters are un- 


252 


She Wanted to Vote. 


called for and often throw an unnecessary burden 
upon the mind. I am frequently bored with let- 
ters of the same nature from my wife, but I have 
learned to give them no attention. He can cer- 
tainly suffer a little inconvenience when you are 
doing so much for the cause of temperance and 
the enfranchisement of women.” 

“You know,” remarked Mrs. Lokeridge, “the 
Ashleys are so domesticated. They will have 
.serious apprehension about my neglected hus- 
band and my lack of interest in my home. Mrs. 
Ashley ignores the suffrage question and says 
that she does not even desire to vote. She 
.aspires to nothing higher than the position of a 
housewife.” 

“I hope this letter will not disturb your 
thoughts,” said Mr. Stanley. “I want your best 
speech to-morrow. This will be your last this 
campaign, and you left such a favorable impress- 
ion when you were here before that I am sure 
we will have an immense audience.” 

“It only strengthens my zeal for the enfran- 
chisement of women. If we drift back to a de- 
pendence upon men for laws, moral influence and 
our own maintenance, we will never be freed 
from the servitude we have so long endured. 
The voice of woman must be heard in appealing 


The Stanley Home . 25& 

tones, pleading for justice and right, and until 
the privilege of the ballot is secured I will con- 
tinue in this work.” 

They were due at Macon City about three 
o’clock in the afternoon, and as the train went 
rattling through town Mrs. Stanley’s heart throb- 
bed with restless anxiety, for she was expecting 
her husband, and thought it very probable that 
she would have to entertain Mrs. Lokeridge.. 
Mrs. Stanley was a woman of medium height, 
slender form and expressive features. Her 
large eyes had an earnest, pathetic look which 
betrayed the weight of untold cares, while a forced 
smile played upon her lips. Whatever her feel- 
ings were, to the world she wished to appear a 
happy woman. Especially to her children she 
wished to carry a happy face and an air of con- 
tentment, for her mother’s love would not bur- 
den them with unpleasant cares. 

This had been a very busy year with Mr. 
Stanley and he had spent but very little time at 
home. He worked hard to secure the nomina- 
tion for congress, and since the opening of the 
campaign his enthusiasm “knew no bounds.”” 
Ever since their marriage his connection with, 
philanthropic work and different reform move- 
ments had necessarily kept him from home, but 


254 


She Wanted to Vote . 


he had never before so completely lost interest in 
the details of home life as during- this congress- 
ional canvass. She was conscious of this fact 
but did not speak of it, and only said to the chil- 
dren in a tender way, “Papa will be home in a 
very few minutes. Let us have everything cozy 
for him.” 

“How long will he stay when he does come?” 
replied Roy, the oldest one. 

“Never mind that, dear; that is for papa to 
say. He has been away almost four weeks. 
Won’t you be glad to see him?” 

“I will,” shrieked little John. “Maybe he’ll 
bring me something.” 

Mrs. Stanley was pained by these remarks. 
She saw that Roy was losing confidence in his 
papa’s interest in him just at the age when he 
needed his counsel every day, and that little John’s 
desire to see him was based wholly on the thought 
of “getting something.” While she was thus 
meditating Roy cried out, “There comes papa 
now in a fine cab,” and went on with his work 
unconcerned. When Mr. Stanley came in they 
greeted each other in a manner that appeared 
affectionate. “How have you been, darling, since 
I have been away ? I hope you are well and able 




“ My co-laborer, Mrs. Lokeridge 


(p. 255.) 




The Stanley Home . 


255 


to entertain my co-laborer, Mrs. Lokeridge, who 
will stop with us to-night.” 

“I will try and make her stopping place a 
pleasant one/’ she replied as she invited her into 
the parlor. 

“I promise,” said Mrs. Lokeridge, “that I 
will not be hard to entertain. I would like to go 
to my room at once, where I may rest awhile.” 

“Just as you wish. Come with me,” said 
Mrs. Stanley, leading the way upstairs, with the 
baby in her arms; “I will show you to your 
room.” 

When they reached the head of the stairs the 
baby began crying and Mrs. Stanley’s efforts to 
quiet her seemed in vain. “You may occupy this 
room,” said she, pointing to her best chamber. 
“I hope you will find it comfortable.” 

“I think I shall enjoy a needed rest if you 
can only soothe the baby, but I am so nervous I 
cannot rest where there is a crying child.” 

“I will take her downstairs right away, and 
will endeavor to keep her quiet.” 

When she returned to the sitting-room she 
said pleasantly to her husband, “I am so glad to 
see you at home again. I have been so lone- 
some.” 


25ft 


She Wanted to Vote. 


“Lonesome !” he exclaimed. “Didn’t you 
have the children with you ?” 

“Yes. But I need you. The family circle 
is so incomplete without you.” 

“I cannot attend to business and stay at home 
all the time,” he rebukingly replied. 

Mrs. Stanley made no reply, and he inquired, 
“Is there any mail for me?” 

“Yes,” she said, handing him a number of 
letters and papers she had received. 

He was soon absorbed in reading the political 
news and letters pertaining to the management 
of the campaign work, and forgot all about the 
fact that he had been away for four weeks, in the 
midst of excitement and surrounded at all times 
by the very best of company, while his wife had 
been at home with his children and, in a measure, 
shut out from the world, but keeping the home 
ready for his return. She longed for company 
and yearned for his tender love, manifested by 
every attention known to the etiquette of lovers, 
but his indifference pierced her heart deeply. 

He was about half through a long letter ex- 
plaining the last political scheme concocted at 
headquarters when little John came running in, 
saying, “Papa, did you bring me anything?” 

His papa read on, perfectly heedless of the 


The Stanley Home. 


257 


question directed to him. Finally John became 
weary of waiting for all answer and began one 
continuous string of “Papa* papa, papa,” until 
Mr. Stanley realized that he was disturbed and 
snapped out, “I do wish you would leave me 
alone long enough to read this letter.” 

John did not appreciate this greeting, when 
his papa had been away so long, and went to his 
mamma crying. The tears that were anchored 
beneath her long, drooping eyelids rolled silently 
down her cheeks in sympathy for the child, but 
she only put her arm around him and said not 
a word. 

When Mr. Stanley had finished reading the 
mail he called the children to him and gave them 
the candy little John was eagerly expecting. 
This commonplace incident would have added 
much to their happiness if their little hearts had 
not been chilled by the harsh greeting which 
showed plainly that he was more interested in 
public affairs than in his boys. 

Stanley told his wife nothing about his mail 
nor his work while he was gone, but she knew 
from the return card on the envelope that one 
letter was from Mrs. Jones, another suffragist, 
and she timidly inquired, “Is she coming here t© 
speak ?” 


258 


She Wanted to Vote . 


“Oh, no,” he replied, “this letter is concern- 
ing another matter.” 

This was very unsatisfactory information for 
the one who had kept his home, cared for his 
children and patiently awaited his return. He 
did not explain matters to his wife, but when 
Mrs. Lokeridge came down stairs he handed her 
the letter to read. It was pertaining to a busi- 
ness matter of the State Central Committee, and 
by virtue of her position she was trusted with in- 
formation about the campaign that he did not 
impart to his wife. 

“I wonder why it is that I cannot be trusted 
with the knowledge of plans which you and my 
husband are to execute?” remarked Mrs. Stan- 
ley to Mrs. Lokeridge. 

“I suppose you do wonder about it,” replied 
Mrs. Lokeridge, “but your husband cannot tell 
you all.” 

Mrs. Stanley was a very confiding woman 
and did not appreciate this information about her 
husband. She believed that a husband and wife 
would drift apart just as their hearts became filled 
with interests that were not mutually shared. 
She was not jealous of her husband, but she felt 
that' her honor and intelligence were questioned 
when, her husband’s letters, which she was not 


The Stanley Home. 


259 


privileged to see, were submitted to another wo- 
man. Such acts, whether done thoughtlessly or 
purposely, destroy confidence, crush all worthy 
pride and deaden the most ardent love. 

Mrs. Stanley had looked forward to the time 
when her husband would be at home, with the 
hope that he would share her responsibilities and 
be to her a companion and protector, but, when 
he neither sympathized with her in her loneliness 
nor made her his confidant in his affairs, her 
disappointment was so keenly felt that tears of 
sorrow continued to fall from her eyes long after 
she had retired for the night. The mental strain 
of bearing the responsibilities of the family which 
divine law allots to both father and mother, had 
destroyed her vital force, and she was in no con- 
dition to endure the? trying incidents of the even- 
ing. She was restless all night long, and, when 
the morning hours came, she was really unable 
to assume her household duties. But there was 
no one to take her place, even for the morning, 
and Mr. Stanley had been so accustomed to being 
called when breakfast was ready that he did not 
offer to assist her in any manner. She was ex- 
erting herself to prepare a good breakfast and 
to maintain her usual tidiness in the house when 
her dear old friend, Mrs. LaFerre, stepped in. 


She Wanted to Vote. 


260 

\ 

“I suspected you had company, and I just 
stepped in to see if I could help you a little. You 
look so sick.” 

“You are the dearest friend I have known 
since the death of my own dear mother,” replied 
Mrs. Stanley, as she turned aside to conceal the 
tears which were falling from her eyes. “You 
are so willing to assist me. I have my breakfast 
on the table and have called Mrs. Lokeridge 
twice, but she has not come down stairs yet. I 
believe I will speak to her again. I have waited 
now nearly twenty minutes since I last called 
her.” 

“I would,” replied Mrs. LaFerre, “and 
would speak loud enough to be heard and under- 
stood, and she would either come or hunt another 
stopping place.” 

“I hope,” said Mr. Stanley, who was then 
waiting in the dining-room, “that she would not 
be so imprudent as to treat our guest so disre- 
spectfully.” 

“She is not able tQ take the unnecessary steps 
required to climb the stairway two or three dif- 
ferent times,” replied Mrs. LaFerre. “Besides, 
your guest owes her hostess a little respect.” 

When Mrs. Stanley returned to the sitting- 


The Stanley Home . 


261 


room Mrs. LaFerre inquired, “Is she ready to 
come down to breakfast ?” 

“Oh, no! she is not coming. She asked me 
to bring some toast and a cup of hot coffee to 
her room.” 

“Is she? sick?” 

“No, but she wishes to rest until the noon 
hour, she said.” 

“Roy Stanley, will you allow your companion 
to be imposed upon in this manner? That wo- 
man don’t need the rest one-half as bad as your 
wife. She is a lazy, overbearing woman, who 
has no sympathy for a housekeeper or she 
wouldn’t lie in bed and ask a sick woman with 
three children to bring her toast and coffee. I 
am sure she’d ask in vain if I was cook. My 
husband would never see me imposed on in that 
way.” 

“It would be discourteous and very indiscreet 
for Mrs. Stanley to refuse so small a favor to a 
woman of her standing and who has been my 
strongest supporter during this campaign. I 
would not allow her to do it.” 

“When a man comes home on a visit as rarely 
as you do,” replied Mrs. La Ferre, “I think it 
entirely out of place when he says to his wife, T 


262 


She Wanted to Vote . 


won’t allow you.’ To my mind, it is but little of 
your business what she says or does.” 

Mrs. Stanley disliked anything unpleasant or 
disagreeable, and to prevent the ill-feding of Mr. 
Stanley or Mrs. Lokeridge, she made the toast 
and a delicious cup of hot coffee and carried it 
to Mrs. Lokeridge in her room. When this was 
done a nervous chill came on and she was forced 
to lie down. 

“Just as I expected,” said Mrs. LaFerre, ad- 
dressing Mr. Stanley. “Your wife has broken 
herself down trying to carry every burden your 
fool notions impose upon her. To my mind, 
nine-tenths of the reformers like you and Mrs. 
Lokeridge need reforming themselves.” 

“That may be true,” said Mrs. Stanley, “but 
I am in no condition to make them see it. I can 
do no more to-day.” 

“I know that, and I will lend a helping hand 
and prepare dinner for you in plenty of time for 
them to go to the afternoon speaking.” 


CHAPTER XXX. 


FAITHFUL TO THE LAST. 

Domestic conditions in the Stanley home were 
unobserved by Mrs. Lokeridge. Her thoughts 
were so thoroughly concentrated on her speech 
that she left the house without giving any ex- 
pression of gratitude for her entertainment, or 
even the common courtesy of saying good-bye to 
Mrs. Stanley, who was sick. The letter she re- 
ceived from her mother that morning was not 
read for fear her mind would be diverted by some 
“petty care at home.” 

This day’s work closed the campaign, and 
the large number of people that gathered there 
made the oldest party leaders ambitious to-con- 
tinue the fight for prohibition after the election 
was over. It was a triumphant ending of the 
campaign work of a new party. At the con- 
clusion of the meeting Mrs. Lokeridge decided 
to go home on the night train. It was very late, 
and Mr. Stanley accompanied her to the station. 
They had some minutes to wait for the train, and. 


264 : 


She Wanted to Vote. 


during the course of their conversation, he re- 
marked, “I am, personally, very grateful for the 
help you have given me in my congressional race, 
and the party which you have so faithfully served 
will be under lasting obligation to you.” 

“The work has been agreeable to me,” she 
replied. “There is great satisfaction in express- 
ing my own convictions upon subjects that should 
be better understood by the common people. To 
fight the destructive influence of the liquor traffic 
and to help secure the enfranchisement of woman 
is a duty I owe to my home and country.” 

“That is right,” he softly replied, “and you 
are capable of doing a great deal of good work 
for this new party which comes out so boldly 
for the protection of home and society. I hope 
your labors will not cease until every saloon is 
closed and women have their just rights.” 

Their conversation was stopped by the ap- 
proaching train, and when he had assisted her 
to the car she bade him good-bye and was soon 
on her way home. 

Just across the aisle from Mrs. Lokeridge sat 
at young lady whose face looked so familiar, in 
the dim light of the car, that she became very 
much interested in her. Who she was Mrs. 
Lokeridge was unable to decide, but something 


Faithful to the Last. 


265 


about her expression and manner attracted her 
closest attention until she dozed off to sleep. 
She was not conscious of her surroundings again 
until they reached Bridgetown. When the brake- 
man called off the station and she had gathered 
up her baggage, she observed this same young 
lady leaving the car just in front of her. It was 
near seven o’clock in the morning, and the busi- 
ness men and laboring people were going to their 
work. A number of people who were standing 
in a group near the end of the platform mani- 
fested great excitement, and the passengers one j 
after another went in that direction, inquiring, 
“What is the matter?” Finally one of the sec- 
tion hands shouted, “It’s nothing but a feller so 
drunk that he fell off the trestle yonder and it 
purt’ near done him up.” 

“And why don’t you tell us who he be?” said 
another. 

“Oh, it’s that Blanden feller.” 

“The cop ’ll take him in. He’s all’ays drunk.” 

When Mrs. Lokeridge learned that the cause 
of the commotion was only a drunken man, she 
hurried away without waiting to find out who it 
was. But this young lady thought she heard the 
name of Blanden, and timidly approached the 
rough-looking stranger and said very softly, “I 


266 


She Wanted to Vote. 


beg your pardon, sir, but did you say the name 
was Blanden ?” 

“Yes, um. It’s Frank Blanden, and he’s pow- 
erful drunk.” 

She waited for no further information, but 
thanked him and rushed to the unfortunate 
drunkard. When she looked upon his bleeding 
face she turned deathly pale, and stood silent for 
a few seconds before she could realize that it was 
the pure, innocent boy she had left only a few 
years ago. “Oh, Frank, Frank!” she cried, with 
an expression of disappointment and grief. “Can 
this be you? Can it be possible that you have 
drifted to this low plane of life ?” He looked at 
her with wild, glaring eyes, but did not recognize 
her. “Take him to, the nearest hotel,’ 1 she said 
in a gentle but earnest tone. 

“Why do you assume this authority?” said a 
bystanding officer. “The cell is the place for 
him/’ 

“He was my confidant and companion when 
but a child, and the faithful friend of my youth. 
I pray you,” she said, falling on her knees before 
the great, strong officer, “to do as I request. He 
was a good boy, filled with principles that would 
have honored any man, and only the force of cir- 
cumstances could have brought him to this low 












He was drifted to this through the lack of proper influence 
at home and the improper influences in society (p. 267 .) 


Faithful to the Last. 


26 T 


estate. He was drifted to this through the lack 
of proper influence at home and the improper 
influences in society. At the death of his father, 
several years ago, he was crowded out of a peace- 
ful home life and forced to seek sympathy and 
companionship elsewhere. I implore you to be 
merciful, and I beg you on bended knees, in the 
name of Him who came to save the sinner, to* 
let me take care of him.” 

Such willingness to care for a fallen brother 
was a strange sight to this experienced officer. 
Her charity and love, manifested by her word and 
works, touched a heart where force had hitherto 
been the ruling power. This policeman never 
thought that he could be moved by tears and 
persuasion, for his heart had been so hardened.. 
But the spark of divinity, which is in every 
human soul, was reached by the power of love, 
and his very being was filled with sympathy. 
His frame quivered with emotion, and he said in 
a husky, trembling voice, “I grant your request, 
but I think a few hours will wind him out.” 

“May Heaven bless you,” she said, as she. 
arose from the attitude of prayer. “He may not 
live but a few hours, but let him die in the care 
of her whose burdens he shared when she was a. 
little orphan girl and was tortured with such 


268 


She Wanted to Vote. 


epithets as ‘waif/ ‘pauper’ and ‘outcast/ and 
shunned by what was known as ‘good society/ 
all because of her humble station in life. Let 
me thus feebly express my gratitude to him for 
his kindness and fidelity to me when I was so 
much in need of friends.” 

When Katy drove away in the carriage with 
Frank and the officer, the coarse, rough men who 
had gathered around wiped their eyes and looked 
after her as they would after an angel of light. 
The sound of her sweet, persuasive voice and the 
heartfelt sympathy extended to one who had 
fallen so low, was an exhibition of kindness they 
had never seen. The manifestation of such tru§ 
friendship stirred to its depths all that was good 
within them and gave them a better feeling for 
humanity. 

The word was conveyed to Mrs. Blanden, and 
about nine o’clock she and Mrs. Lokeridge 
reached the hotel to which Frank had been taken. 
Doctor Lokeridge had been summoned and had 
vigorously worked with him for more than an 
hour before they arrived. When they walked 
into the room they looked confusedly upon the 
fashionably-dressed, genteel young lady they 
found assisting the Doctor. They wondered who 
it could be that would even lend her presence to 


Faithful to the Last. 


269 


such a scene. But when they came face to face 
with her and looked into her black, flashing eyes, 
they found that fine-appearing, cultured lady to 
be the once scorned Katy Barker. They appar- 
ently gave her no notice, but went to Frank’s 
bedside, and Mrs. Blanden asked, “How is Frank 
by this time? Is he dangerously injured?” 

“He is quiet, but seems to be sinking rapidly / 5 
replied the Doctor.” 

“Poor, reckless boy,” said Mrs. Lokeridge. 

“This is certainly a sad ending of life for one 
who had the opportunities he did.” 

“Stop!” said Katy, looking straight into her 
face. “You shall not speak aught against him. 
His place in the world has always been made 
by you and your mother subordinate to your own. 
You were given the parlors and he the barn. 
You were crowded into all the pleasures of the 
home life and he was crowded out. He was 
permitted to go with all kinds of company and 
indulged in whatever amusement^ he could find 
to entertain him, that you might not have him 
around the house. He is but one of the many 
victims who fall through social influences and 
neglected homes / 5 

This was an unexpected and painful rebuke 
to Frank’s mother and sister, and so very differ- 


270 


She Wanted to Vote . 


ent from Katy’s former manner. She, moved 
by both compassion and anger, scarcely realized 
the weight of her own words. Before Mrs. 
Lokeridge could reply the Doctor beckoned them 
to the bed, for he thought Frank was dying; 
but in a moment he rallied and looked at the 
faces around him In a natural way. Katy spoke 
to him and asked, “Don’t you remember Katy 
Barker?” 

He caught the name, and with a wierd look 
gazed into her face. He reached his hand toward 
her, but suddenly drew it back and turned his 
eyes from her, saying, “I am — unworthy — to — 
look — into — your — sweet — pure — face.” 

“But I am your friend,” she answered as she 
stepped up closer to the bed. 

“My friend, — I have none. You were once 
my friend, long ago, when I deserved friends, 
but not now. I am helpless, worthless and use- 
less, and nobody cares for me.” 

His ruined life and the awful agony of his 
fallen condition gave extreme sorrow to Katy; 
.and, if she had possessed the power, she would 
have rescued him at any peril. Placing her hand 
upon his fevered brow, she said: “Frank, God 
is your friend and loves you. He even marks 
the sparrow’s fall ; and it was He who sent Christ 


Faithful to the Last. 271 

into this world to save such unfortunate sinners 
as you.” 

These words seemed to have no meaning to 
Frank Blanden; for, notwithstanding the most 
skillful efforts of the physician, he became wholly 
unconscious and death soon relieved him of his 
suffering. 


(')ii . W / 4 V«. •'« -Jv* 






CHAPTER XXXI. 


TRUE BENEVOLENCE. 

Under the direction of Mrs. Lokeridge, ar- 
rangements were made for a private funeral at 
her residence early the next morning. Only a very 
few of the nearest relatives were invited to be 
present. Katy was not asked to attend the fu- 
neral, and when she carried flowers to the door 
Mrs. Lokeridge at first refused to accept them. 
“I think it is very unbecoming/’ she said, “for 
a young lady to manifest such unusual interest 
in one so unworthy.” 

“I brought these flowers,” replied Katy, “as 
a tribute of respect to the memory of Frank’s 
life before his character was corrupted by im- 
proper influences, and if I cannot place them on 
his casket, may they decorate his grave ?* 

“Perhaps I have spoken harshly, even be- 
fore I understood your motive, and if you will 
pardon my words, you may come with me and 
place them in his casket where they will be buried 
with him.” 

Katy followed Mrs. Lokeridge into the room 


274 


She Wanted to Vote. 


where Frank was lying and with her own hands 
she placed the flowers by his side. Mrs. Loke- 
ridge was moved to tears by this meek and un- 
pretentious act of kindness; and, despite her 
angry feelings for the severe rebuke Katy had 
given her the day before, she asked her to be 
seated in the study and remain awhile with them. 
This courtesy was shown Katy partly through 
respect and admiration of her true character, but 
more because Mrs. Lokeridge had a curiosity to 
know something about her present condition in 
life. 

“It is rather a strange coincidence for you 
to be here at this particular time,” remarked 
Mrs. Lokeridge. 

“Yes, indeed/’ Katy replied thoughtfully. 

“I should think you would have lost your in- 
terest in the people here by this time.” 

“The dear people who took me into their 
home and cared for me when nobody loved me, 
I shall never forget. I am now on my way to 
visit them.” 

“Your present home, I am informed, is one 
of wealth and luxury. If so, the contrast with 
the Stark home will be so painful your visit will 
not be worth the effort of going/ 

“My present home,” replied Katy, “is one of 


True Benevolence. 


275 


architectural splendor, well equipped with all 
modern conveniences and elaborately furnished. 
It is really more palatial than I even can consci- 
entiously enjoy, but all the luxuries money will 
buy can can never cause me to forget the friends 
who shared their home with me when I was a 
poor, friendless orphan. I am going back to see 
them because I love them, and I hope to add to 
their happiness by my presence and a share of 
my fortune.” 

“They now have all they are capable of en- 
joying, and I am sure, if you have money to give, 
you would do much more good for humanity to 
give it to some charitable or temperance organ- 
ization. The Starks never do anything for pub- 
lic good.” 

Katy did not make a hasty reply, but her 
eyes turned toward the casket in the adjoining 
room and for some time she sat thinking of 
Frank, the causes of his ruined life and the 
purity of the Stark home. At last she said, 
“They not only enjoy what they have, but they 
never fail to feed the hungry and give shelter to 
the homeless. Although Uncle Zimri is unedu- 
cated and rough in his manner of expression, 
he is a man of principle. Much of whatever good 
qualities I possess is due to his and Auntie’s high 


276 


She Wanted to Vote. 


standard of honesty and right living. As to the 
cause of temperance, he does more than many of 
its noted advocates. He totally abstains from 
the use of all kinds of wine and liquor and has 
the moral courage to vote against the saloon. 
He protects those around him from evil associa- 
tions and his home is free from evil allure- 
ments. ,, 

“The masses gain nothing from such insig- 
nificant people. Their influence is so remote it 
will never be noticed in this busy world.” 

“Perhaps you are reaching conclusions 
hastily,” interrupted the Doctor, who was rest- 
ing on the couch. “Katy will probably put into 
practice some of the lessons learned in that 
home.” 

“Perhaps she may in a very limited degree,” 
said Mrs. Lokeridge, “but she will soon learn 
there is no demand among cultured people for the 
crude ideas of the Starks. I presume you move 
in the circle of fashionable society with your 
grandparents, and of course you have to conform 
to its customs and amusements.” 

“Nothing they enjoy is denied me,” replied 
Katy. “My expenses are unlimited, but neither 
cards, dancing, wine drinking nor the gaudy cos- 
tumes of society people have any charm for me. 


True Benevolence. 


277 


The lessons of industry and economy I learned 
from the lives of those whom you are pleased to 
call insignificant were so interwoven in my char- 
acter that I could not be happy if I wasted my 
time on questionable amusements and extrava- 
gant dress. I try to make my life useful and 
helpful to others.” 

“That is the correct idea of life,” said the 
Doctor. 

“If your are so averse to the customs of mod- 
ern society, how do you make yourself a con- 
genial member?” inquired Mrs. Lokeridge. 

“Pardon personal allusion and I will tell you 
some things I have done. When I first entered 
society with my grandparents I knew nothing 
about cards and dancing, for Uncle and Auntie 
were always so opposed to both that I had learned 
to look upon them with perfect horror. Wine 
the same way. I refused to touch it at the most 
aristocratic places. At first some of the more 
fashionable people smiled, and said I had not 
learned the ways of society, but when they saw 
my experience in company made no change in 
my fixed principles, they began to inquire into 
the cause of my actions. I soon discovered that 
the position and wealth of my grandfather, a 
retired banker, gave me an undue influence, and I 


278 


She Wanted to Vote. 


at once resolved to use it for the good of those 
who were mere followers in society. I did not 
organize anti-amusement clubs, but worked with 
my closest friends until they were convinced of 
the dangerous tendencies of these pleasures, and 
this influence has quietly spread until we have 
excluded all these evils from our mode of en- 
tertainment.” 

“I think you have made a very unnecessary 
sacrifice,” said Mrs. Lokeridge. “I look upon 
cards and dancing as harmless recreation. It 
is an easy thing to oppose the customs of so- 
ciety, but very difficult to suggest that which 
will interest or entertain people of leisure. What 
have you done to employ time that would be 
otherwise spent on these amusements?” 

‘‘We have agreed,” replied Katy, “to spend 
the same number of hours in helping those 
around us that have heretofore been spent upon 
these idle amusements. We do this by personal 
work. We become acquainted with those in 
meager circumstances, and learn their needs; 
then we help them to help themselves by provid- 
ing something for them to do We think that 
employment is better than charity; that indus- 
trious habits are a safeguard against poverty and 
vice as well. 


True Benevolence. 


279 


“Your theory is no doubt a good one, but I 
fear you will never get good service from such 
people.” 

“Our work has been greatly appreciated. We 
see marked improvement in the way homes are 
kept among those to whom we have given em- 
ployment, as well as in their personal appear- 
ance.” 

“Would you object to telling me the kind of 
employment you have been able to secure for 
those you have helped?” asked Mrs. Lokeridge, 
who was more interested than she wished Katy 
to know. 

“We have no particular kind of work, but 
aim to provide that which is suited to the capa- 
bility and taste of those we seek to help. To 
one family, living in the suburbs, of the city, I 
gave a good cow and provided them with feed 
for her for one year. They have made her 
profitable by selling milk. For another family, 
I leased a large garden and for three years pro- 
vided working tools, and gave them all they could 
produce. The result was that they are now no 
longer dependent. For another family I pro- 
vided a sewing machine, which enables the 
mother and her two daughters to be self-support- 
ing. I pay for the papers of three different news- 


280 


She Wanted to Vote . 


boys and give them all the money from the sales 
that they may purchase books and clothing neces- 
sary to go to school. I pay one poor woman, 
who is not able to do hard work, to take care of 
the children of women who are forced to work 
from home. This is some of the work which I 
have done for those in need who live nearest 
our home; and many of my friends have done 
personal work of the same kind. Twenty of us 
girls contributed the cost of one party dress each 
and bought a house and lot for a blind man, who 
lived in a basement, and who was led, by a half 
clad, pale faced little boy, from door to door, 
where he played an old hand-organ that he might 
secure a small pittance to help his wife, who was 
sewing at starvation prices for a large manu- 
factory/ J 

“Simply possessing a lot and empty house 
does not provide employment, 1 ” said Mrs. Loke- 
ridge with a critical air. 

“No,” replied Katy, “but the young men be- 
came interested in this work and gave money 
with which we furnished the house with all the 
necessary furniture and provisions that would 
last until they could buy for themselves. When 
this home was ready for them, we clothed the 
family with good, clean clothes and welcomed 


True Benevolence. 


281 


them to their new habitation. I cannot describe 
their joy nor our happiness when they took pos- 
session. They now earn their living by renting 
rooms and keeping boarders. Their home is 
neat and clean and they have shown their ap- 
preciation and real worth by their economy and 
willingness to work.” 

“Many of those you are now helping will be- 
come dependent again as soon as your personal 
attention is withdrawn from them.” 

“Some of them may, but we are getting a 
majority of them to come into our own church, 
where they come into friendly associations with 
our best people. We hope by the discreet attention 
of pastor and people to keep them under the ele- 
vating influence of Christianity until they are 
brought to a self-reliant standard of life.” 

This benevolent work of Katy Barker was a 
great surprise to Mrs. Lokeridge. She did not 
commend her method although conscious of its 
merits, and, when Katy arose to go, she insisted 
that she might remain and talk with them longer. 

Katy looked at her watch and saw that it 
was near eleven o’clock. “I beg your pardon,” 
she said, “for prolonging our conversation un- 
der present circumstances, and I will now bid 
you good night.” 









CHAPTER XXXII. 


TRUE GRATITUDE. 

Mrs. Lokeridge did not favor the idea of 
taking a corpse an unnecessary distance in order 
to bury it in a family graveyard, or by the side 
of friends, and tried to prevail upon her mother 
to bury Frank in the cemetery near town instead 
of taking him a distance of twenty miles to place 
him beside his father. The day was cool, a heavy 
mist was in the air; and, to her mind, the idea 
of going so far for burial was very foolish. 
“Such exposure as we shall have to endure this 
inclement day,” she said to her mother, “will 
unnecessarily endanger our health; and your de- 
sire to take him back to that lonely place is only 
yielding to a sentiment which women of our po- 
sition should not encourage. It is a very bad 
precedent. What difference does it make where 
our dead are buried?” 

“Frank often requested me to have him 
placed beside his father,” the mother replied. 

Tt was only another of his many mistakes. 


:284 


She Wanted to Vote . 


You should not be governed by a request of that 
sort.” 

“He has made! the same request of me a 
number of times,” said the Doctor, “and you 
may call it sentiment or what you please, but 
I will see that this sincere wish of his heart 
is carried out. Our capability to overcome our 
own selfish desires is made stronger by respect- 
ing the wishes of those around us, and it will 
be helpful to you and respectful to Frank’s mem- 
ory to bury him as he often requested.” 

“Doctor Lokeridge,” said his wife, “you are 
acting very unwise and with undue authority.” 

“You may think of my course in this matter 
as you will, but I know his heartfelt desire to 
rest beside his father was but an expression of 
his high regard for him; and, regardless of dis- 
tance or precedents, his body shall sleep in peace 
in that country graveyard by the side of the par- 
ent he loved so dearly.” 

This was the first time since their marriage 
that Doctor Lokeridge was perfectly indifferent 
to the words of his wife. In a very reticent 
manner he made all the necessary arrangements, 
and he and Mrs. Blanden took the body of Frank 
back to the country graveyard, Mrs. Lokeridge re- 
maining at home They were met there by repre- 


True Gratitude . 


285 


sentatives from every family in the neighbor- 
hood, many of whom remembered Frank as a 
very kind, reliable and pure-minded boy. These 1 
friends came to. “weep with those who weep.” 
As they looked upon his changed features, their 
tears were more because of sympathy and re- 
gret for his ruined life than sorrow for his 
death. 

Katy Barker did not go to the burying, al- 
though she had come to her Uncle Zimri Stark’s 
early in the forenoon. But late in the evening, 
after Doctor Lokeridge and Mrs. Blanden had 
gone back to Bridgetown, and the neighbors had 
returned to their homes, she and her Auntie and 
.Uncle went to his grave and planted some beau- 
tiful hardy flowers at his feet. 

“I’ll tell you,” said Zimri, as he carefully 
worked around the grave, “if them Blanden wo- 
men had paid any attention to Frank and given 
him a chance to work he’d made a mighty fine 
man.” 

“I am very sure he would,” Katy tenderly re- 
plied, “but their idea of saving boys is through 
some organization beside the home; and in their 
effort to support their different organizations, 
they claimed they did not have the time to be 
bothered with what he enjoyed.” 

“That’s exactly like ’em. They’re powerful 


286 


She Wanted to Vote . 


bigoted and always wantin’ to be noticed. You 
don’t know ’em like I do. You see, me and 
the old woman here lived by 'em for years 
and we know their ways. Old Mis’ Blanden 
iwas one of them peppery sort of women 
that never was jest suited. She never liked 
house work and was forever tellin’ Margaret 
she must do somethin’ else besides housekeepin’. 
I have heard her say many a time that she want- 
ed to educate her to speak for the rights of wo- 
men, and goodness knows how much more fool- 
ishness she put into that girl’s head. It ain’t 
no wonder to me Margaret acts like she does.” 

“It ain’t to me neither,” said Mrs. Stark. 
“That’s just like it was, Katy, just like Zimri 
told you. But actually there was no better man 
than Frank’s pap. It’s the truth. He was an 
honest, good man, if ever there was one, and I 
never could keep from sayin’ to Zimri every 
little spell that I thought his women folks didn’t 
treat him jest right.” 

“It’s an awful dangerous thing to let a great 
big boy idle his time away,” said Zimri. “They 
had ought to be at work all day and at home 
of nights, and not allowed so much time for 
frolicing,’ and nine out of ten would make pretty 
fair citizens.” 


True Gratitude. 


287 


“Useful employment is a great protection 
from evil,” Katy thoughtfully replied. 

“Zimri,” said Mrs. Stark, “we must go right 
in the house. We have let this child stay out 
here in this damp weather till I’m powerful much 
afraid she’ll be stiffened up with rheumatism like 
1 am. It just seems so natural to have you with 
us, Katy, that I think you are mine again and 
that I must look after you.” 

Katy lingered at Frank’s grave, and with a 
deep, thoughtful expression she looked upon the 
new mound of earth with the intensity of one 
who would see the face of him who slept be- 
neath ; and taking the ring from her finger which 
Frank had given her when a child, she said as 
if addressing him : “I have been faithful to the 
promise I made you, and now as I hold this 
ring above your grave, as the memento of our 
friendship, I pray that you are happy and at 
rest.” 

The deep emotion expressed in her face was 
apparent to Mrs. Stark, and she walked a few 
steps away from the grave toward their house, 
but Katy soon overtook them and said, “My 
dear Auntie, it makes me very happy to hear 
you speak so affectionately of me as you did a 
moment ago. I was afraid you and Uncle would 


288 


She Wanted to Vote. 


not love me after I left you and went to Grand- 
pa’s, and I often cried when I thought of it.” 

“Well, I declare,” said Zimri, “we never 
knowed you thought so much of us. We just 
’lowed when you got amongst such rich people 
that we’d be forgot. We never expected to see 
you back inside of our old-fashioned house after 
you wrote about the fine home of your grandpap, 
and about your goin’ to college and learnin’ mu- 
sic. We was powerful afraid you’d be too stuck 
up to even think of us.” 

“Oh! Uncle,” she said, taking hold of his 
broad, rough hand, as she had often done when 
she was a child, “may God forgive me if I ever 
forget that you shared this plain old house with 
me when I was without friends or a home. You 
blessed me in many ways, and I have come back 
because I wanted to see you and to do something 
for you that will make you more comfortable 
and happy.” 

Katy’s deep interest in them was a happy sur- 
prise and Mrs. Stark threw her arms about her 
and wept. The Starks were growing old and the 
busy cares of life were gradually passing from 
them into the hands of younger people. Each 
year they had less to occupy their time. Because 
of their age and simple manner of living, there 


True Gratitude . 


289 


was not much demanded of them ; and besides the 
companionship of each other they had but little 
to brighten their lives. Katy’s presence made 
them very happy and Zimri would have the 
neighbors come in and spend the day or “set till 
bed time/’ as he said, “to hear Katy talk and to 
see what a fine sensible woman she had growed 
up to be.” 














CHAPTER XXXIII. 


THE RICH AND THE POOR. 

Katy’s most admirable virtue was in her 
strength of character to resist influences that in- 
terfered with her convictions of right. She 
was faithful to duty, rather than to the demands 
of society, and loyal to principle rather than 
customs ; and these excellent qualities were never 
shown in a better way than when she came 
from the magnificent home of her grandfather 
Ryman to spend the winter at the humble cot- 
tage of Zimri Stark. She gave up the pleasures 
of a wealthy home, congenial friends, her inter- 
est in her church and benevolent work, because 
she wanted to visit and cheer the lives of these 
people who had taken her to their hearts in 
her early childhood and loved her as their own. 
She loved them because they were kind to her, 
and honored them because of their real worth. 
She was the same amiable character in the 
Stark cottage as in the Ryman palace. Her 
wealth had not led her to seek her own personal 


292 


She Wanted to Vote . 


interests or to gratify selfish desires; but she 
made it a means to add to the happiness of oth- 
ers, and in this way of using her money she had 
cultured her sweet, helpful disposition which at- 
tracted the attention and won the love of people 
in every station in life. 

During her visit with the Starks she had 
their three-roomed cottage changed into a house 
of five large rooms, four of which she fitted up 
to suit the taste of her Uncle and Auntie and 
the other one she furnished with such furniture as 
she thought would add to their comfort and 
happiness. Her Auntie and Uncle yielded to 
her every wish with a parental delight, and the 
home was made a very attractive country resi- 
dence. When she placed a fine new organ in 
the parlor Zimri said, “My dear child, we’ve no 
use for that ! Me and the old woman is too old 
to ever fetch any music out of it.” 

“But you love music, Uncle, and I believe 
you will always enjoy sacred music. Let me 
play for you, and I am sure you will feel the 
thrill of pleasure that comes from the harmony 
of the human voice and the tones of the organ. 
She sang and played “Rock of Ages,” “My 
Faith Looks up to Thee,” and a number of other 
familiar pieces. This was the first time in the 


The Rich and the Poor. 


293 


lives of these two old people that they had ever 
listened to such sweet music in their own home. 
“It sounds like the music of angels,” said Zimri. 

“I never heard anything half so purty in all 
my life,” exclaimed Auntie. But — we — won’t 
— have — nobody to play when Katy’s gone,” she 
said with a heavy sigh, “and I’ll never look at it 
but what I’ll think of her.” 

Katy, without replying, played some of the 
latest popular songs and they were moved to 
laughter as readily as they had been to tears. 
They enjoyed the music with the additional 
pleasure of knowing it was Katy’s fingers that 
touched the keys. 

Music in the Stark home became one of the 
daily amusements while Katy remained; and for 
several weeks the time thus spent was their hap- 
piest hours ; but, when the time was nearing for 
Katy to leave, their faces wore a look of sor- 
row that even her songs could not remove. Katy 
realized that they would be very lonely when she 
left them ; and, one evening about four weeks be- 
fore the time for her return to her grandfather’s, 
she revealed her plan to furnish them with mu- 
sic and company, saying: “I know a little 
orphan girl about ten years of age who is very 
bright and has a natural talent for music. She 


294 : 


She Wanted to Vote. 


needs a good home and would come and live with 
you if you would take her. She is very poor and 
lives with her sister, who has four children, in 
a miserable, dingy, old, two-roomed tenement 
house on a narrow, dirty street in our own city. 
Your home would be a great blessing to her.” 

“Ah! Katy,” said Auntie, “it wouldn’t be 
you.” 

“No, dear Auntie, but it would be a sweet 
girl who needs the protecting care of a good 
home. She is affectionate and kind, and you 
would soon learn to love her ; besides, you would 
be doing a great deal for humanity by properly 
rearing her. She is yet pure and innocent and 
if you will consent to take her, I will send for 
her to come that she may reach here before I 
leave you.” 

Mr. and Mrs. Stark loved Katy so much that 
they would not deny her this request she had 
so pleadingly made, and at the close of the sec- 
ond week Ruth McGlouflin reached the Stark 
home. Katy and Uncle Zimri met her at the 
station, and when Katy caught sight of the thin, 
pale face, she exclaimed, “Oh! Ruth! I am so 
glad to see you on your way to a good home. 
Are you sick, child ?” 

“No,” she timidly replied. 


The Rich and the Poor . 


295 


“This is little Ruth that I have told you so 
much about, Uncle,” said Katy. 

“She is a powerful weakly lookin’ creatur’.,” 
said Zimri, with a look of disappointment. 

As Katy and Ruth walked down the plat- 
form side by side, Zimri contrasted their general 
appearance and he was pained to think of giving 
up Katy for such a sickly looking child. But 
he had promised Katy that he would give her 
a trial, and he never thought of breaking his 
word. When they reached home Auntie ran 
out to meet them, but, when she looked upon the 
pale, wan features of this child from a city tene- 
ment house, she turned away with a sigh of an- 
guish and disappointment. 

Katy called to her and remarked, “This is 
little Ruth, Auntie. She looks very pale and 
thin now, but with this pure air and plenty of 
sunshine, good food and employment she will 
soon become a healthy, rosy-cheeked little girl, 
just as you would want her to be. Her thin, 
pallid look is due to the lack of proper food 
and clothing and the ill-ventilated place she had 
to live in. I know her well and have been at 
her home a number of times. I have often given 
them work and have always found them very re- 
liable. Her present appearance indicates the 


296 


She Wanted to Vote. 


great need of a comfortable home. You can 
furnish this to her and I am sure such kindness 
will be repaid you by the happiness she will bring 
to your lives. Ruth is capable of rising above her 
present condition and, with proper environments, 
she will develop into a useful woman.” 

“For your sake, Katy, we will give her a 
trial, but she’s not a likely looking child to my 
mind,” said Auntie. 

Katy’s sympathy for the child became deep 
and painful when she saw that her Uncle and 
Auntie were not well impressed with her. Very 
soon after supper Katy took Ruth to her room 
in order that the tired child might rest. But 
Ruth felt so lonely and far away from her sister 
that she was crying bitterly when Katy returned 
to the room at ten o’clock. “What is the matter, 
dear?” said Katy, when she heard her crying. 

“I don’t believe they want me,” said Ruth 
brokenly. 

“They don’t know you yet, Ruth. They are 
not accustomed to the pale, thin, half-clad chil- 
dren who live in many of the city tenement 
houses, and they do not realize the great oppor- 
tunity to make you strong and teach you to be 
a good woman or they would feel entirely differ- 
ent about your condition. You can make them 


The Rich and the Poor. 


297 


want you if you will be real good and helpful 
to them. They will love you when they know 
you better, for I am sure you will try and make 
them happy. Now be quiet and go to sleep. I 
will not leave you here until you know them bet- 
ter. They need a girl like you, and you need a 
good home such as they can give you, and you 
will be a great blessing to each other.” 

Katy sat by her bedside and held her thin, 
nervous hands until she fell asleep, and then 
walked lightly away lest she should disturb her. 

Early next morning, before Ruth was awake, 
Katy told her Auntie and Uncle of her experience 
with Ruth the night before. She at once won 
their hearts for the child, and when Auntie called 
little Ruth for breakfast it was with a true 
motherly kindness. Every day Mr. and Mrs. 
Stark manifested a deeper interest in this little 
stranger, and before they were scarcely con- 
scious of it they were prizing her as their own. 
Katy bought plenty of suitable clothing and 
dressed her comfortably and she soon made 
quite a different impression from the ill-clad, 
half-fed Ruth in the tenement. 

When Ruth had been with them about ten 
days, Zimri observed that she was already look- 
ing better and he remarked, “She’s gettin’ to be 


298 


She Wanted to Vote. 


rather a promising’ sort of a girl. I’d no idea 
when she come she’d ever be worth anything to 
us, but she’s beginnin’ to pick up mighty fast 
and is gettin’ right handy.” 

“Poor child,” said Katy, “you have no idea 
how she has been forced to live. God will bless 
you if you will care for her.” 

“If she will only make the woman that you 
have. I’ll be mighty well pleased.” 

“Teach her to be industrious and economical, 
to honor the aged, to speak the truth, to be mod- 
est, to do right because of right, as you always 
taught me, and I feel sure that she will be a 
worthy woman whose life will reflect the good 
influences of this home in a greater measure 
than I have ever done.” 

“Oh, Katy, she’ll never do any more good for 
everybody and be better to us than you have.’* 

The time for Katy’s departure was near at 
hand, but Mr. and Mrs. Stark were becoming 
interested in Ruth and they did not feel quite so 
sad. Ruth was an affectionate, obedient child 
and perfectly delighted with the country and the 
comforts of life she now enjoyed. When Katy 
told her that she must study music, and learn 
to play for Uncle and Auntie whenever they 


The Rich and the Poor. 


299 


wished, she was amazed and said, “Will they 
let me play that fine organ?” 

“Oh, yes ; they are anxious to have you learn 
and you are to begin with your lessons next 
week.” 

“Oh! I’m so glad, so glad,” said Ruth, clap- 
ping her hands for poy. “I just love music and 
I will do my best.” 

In a few days Katy started for her home in 
the East and Uncle and Auntie, with little Ruth,, 
went with her to the station. “Well, Katy,” said 
Zimri, when the train was in sight, “you’ve been 
a powerful sight of company for us the last few 
months and I hate mighty bad to see you go 
away, but we’ll have to bid you farewell.” 

“I am truly sorry to leave you and Auntie,” 
she replied, holding to their hands, “but I am 
glad that I do not leave you alone. Dear Ruth 
here will be very pleasant company for you both 
as well as a help.” 






CHAPTER XXXIV. 


RESULTS. 

It was only a few miles distant from the sta- 
tion where Katy had left her Auntie and Uncle 
Zimri Stark to Bridgetown, where she would 
have more than two hours to wait for the train, 
and she was undecided as to how she would 
spend this time. The knowledge of Mrs. Blan- 
den’s remorse and grief over the death of Frank 
impelled her to go to the Lokeridge home on a 
mission of comfort. When she stepped from 
the car she saw that Mrs. Lokeridge had come 
in on the same train. She had been away from 
the city for the past month, speaking and or- 
ganizing district suffrage associations, and Mr. 
LeRoy, editor of one of the leading city papers 
of Bridgetown, had met her at the station to get 
a full report of her work. They were busily 
talking when Katy passed them, and as Mrs. 
Lokeridge barely recognized her, she went on 
into the waiting room. She was unobtrusive, 
and her good intention to go and comfort Mrs. 


302 


She Wanted to Vote . 


Blanden was thwarted by the seeming indiffer- 
ence of Mrs. Lokeridge. Notwithstanding the 
apparent coolness of Mrs. Lokeridge, as soon 
as she had given LeRoy an account of her 
meetings, she invited him to go with her and 
meet Katy. 

LeRoy was reared in the country near the 
old homestead of the Blanden’s, but having left 
there about the time Katy was taken into the 
Stark family, she knew nothing of him. Mrs. 
Lokeridge introduced them and soon left with- 
out disclosing his business. LeRoy adroitly 
drew her into conversation which led her to 
speak freely of her recent visit to the Stark’s, 
and of her life and work since going to live with 
her grandparents. He became greatly inter- 
ested in her methods of helping the needy, and 
was surprised at the amount of good work which 
could be done by one unpretending individual. 

“Pardon me,” said he, “but why do you not 
do this work through some charitable organiza- 
tion?” 

“I could do no more through an organized 
society than I am doing now, and I am not an- 
noyed by the perplexing cares and work required 
to maintain an organization. When personally 
acquainted with the worthy poor, I know better 


Results. 


303 


what will be the most beneficial to' them. Be- 
sides, I do not want to parade every attention 
I give to those who have less material wealth 
than I possess, neither do I want to pose as a 
great philanthropist. I want to help members 
of the human family as one friend should help 
another.” 

Katy did not know that she had been talk- 
ing to an editor, and never suspected, when she 
left for her home in the East, that she had 
furnished material for a startling article in his 
paper. The next evening, however, on the same 
page of LeRoy’s paper that contained the ac- 
count of Mrs. Lokeridge’s meetings and her 
wonderful success in organizing suffrage clubs, 
more than one column was given to the “Life 
and Work of Katy Barker.” Her name was 
heralded to the world as a young lady of wealth, 
opposed to charitable organizations, and who 
sought the personal acquaintance and associa- 
tion of the worthy poor that she might help them 
by providing employment for them. 

Katy would not willingly have permitted this 
public notice olf what she had done; but the 
publication and commendation of her good work 
strengthened the opinion of those who were op- 
posed to organizations for the purpose of reliev- 


304 


She Wanted to Vote . 


in g the poor and bettering the condition of homes. 

Dr. Lokeridge read the article through the 
second time, although he knew something of 
Katy’s history and her many acts of kindness. 
He felt that his life was cursed by organizations, 
and after he had read of what this girl had done 
to keep families together and to protect them 
from want and destitution, he became more and 
more infuriated. “Clubs, societies and suffrage 
organizations have practically ruined my happi- 
ness,” he said aloud. “They are a curse to the 
land, for they destroy all the pleasures of home 
life.” 

He was alone in the study and, soon after 
thus speaking, continued to peruse the paper. 
He read the report of his wife’s ipeetings; and, 
when he had finished the last sentence, he threw 
the paper on the floor and walked hurriedly 
to and fro in front of the grate. He was greatly 
distressed. For weeks he had suffered the great 
agony of one who is on the very threshold of 
impending ruin. The conclusion was gradually 
forcing itself upon him that he could no longer 
live with one who so completely neglected the 
home for outside work, and his anguish of soul 
was greater than he could express in words. 


Results. 


305 


His steps were rapid and in half audible 
tones he said: “Leave my home! Where shall 
I go or what I will do with my children ? These 
questions will drive me wild if I do not reach 
a conclusion soon. Home, the dearest word to 
me in our language. If all the beautiful things 
that have ever been written about home were 
summed up in one expression, it would fail to 
express my conception of that dear place. I 
long for a home where my wife will be content 
to be its queen and take pleasure in its keeping, 
and where we can sit down together of evenings 
with our little children playing about us and 
mutually share all that we experience of things 
pleasing and vexatious. I can never have it, 
and I feel the shadows of disappointment slowly 
crowding out the sunshine of my soul. I will 
make a change. I will not suffer the humility 
of living as I have lived any longer. ,, 

Mrs. Blanden and Mrs. Lokeridge were sit- 
ting in an adjoining room, where they over- 
heard the Doctor talking to himself, and when 
he ceased speaking aloud, Mrs. Lokeridge went 
to him, saying, “Pray tell me why it is that 
you allow yourself to become so excited over 
conditions you cannot change? I have told yott 
repeatedly that I will not abandon my field of 


She Wanted to Vote. 


S06 

labor for the domestic life of which you dream. 
You have become a monomaniac on this subject 
and you really destroy the pleasures we might 
have when we are at home together. Your 
threat of leaving or making a change does not 
move me, for I have long since learned that I 
am able to take care of myself. I owe more 
to the world than I can accomplish in the narrow 
limits of family service, and if you would un- 
selfishly measure woman’s ability and power in 
public affairs you would not seek to restrain me 
in this noble effort for a free ballot.” 

Before replying he went to her and placed 
his arms about her; and, while thus manifesting 
hlis protecting care, he said, “Margaret, trust 
in me. I am not devoid of interest in you and our 
children, and my ballot is always cast for the 
principles which I think will be the greatest pro- 
tection to my home and family. Besides, it is 
not your suffrage work alone that consumes 
your time; when you are not speaking you are 
attending clubs, societies and lodges, and the 
affairs of our home are entirely given up to hired 
help, whose sole interest is their wages. Our 
love for each other is growing cold. Our little 
children are suffering for want of our mu- 
tual interest and care, and I beg of you to re- 


Results. 


307 


nounce your methods of purifying social and 
political conditions and make your first concern 
the peace and happiness of our own home. -I 
am tired of this unnatural way of living, and 
we must come to some agreement by which we 
can mutually share the responsibilities of our 
home life or we must not occupy the same 
house.” 

Tearing herself from his embrace and con- 
fronting him with an air of defiance, she said, 
“Doctor Lokeridge, I have a broader view of life 
than simply looking after our own welfare. We 
have too many men and women who do not con- 
cern themselves about the general public, and 
who silently overlook evils that do not directly 
effect their own families. Besides, you do not 
know what humiliation I suffer when I am denied 
the right of the ballot and even the time to speak 
for my liberty.” 

“And you are wholly indifferent and have 
even laughed at my situation when I was left 
at home to take care of the house and children 
in connection with my business. I will not suf- 
fer it any longer. There is but one way to settle 
this difference between us and that is to live loyal 
to our vows of faithfulness made before God. 
Have you done this, Margaret?” 


308 


She Wanted to Vote . 


“Margaret/’ said Mrs. Bllanden in broken 
sentences, as she feebly approached them, “you 
have not. I am convinced that I have misused 
and wasted my opportunities. I have done 
nothing to add to the happiness or to the good of 
society. By my ambition to have you rise above 
the province of a housewife I have brought 
sorrow and disgrace to myself and probably 
caused the destruction of this home, which I 
now see might be made happy if you were con- 
tent to fill the realm of wife and mother. If 
you do not realize your mistake and change, 
your children will be without a mother and I 
without a home.” 

“Mother,” replied Mrs. Lokeridge, with con- 
tempt, “you are not like yourself. It is your age 
and fear of living alone that prompts you to 
speak as you do. I will not do it ; and you shall 
not encourage Doctor Lokeridge by talking tha^ 
way in his presence.” 

“Then we will separate,” said the Doctor. 

These words pierced the heart of Mrs. Blan- 
den, and she could no longer smother her deep 
grief. Her bewailings attracted the attention of 
little Freddie, and he ran from one to the other 
to learn the cause of her tears. At last his papa 
said, “Your mamma and I will have to separate.” 


Results. 


309 


Just at this moment Mr. and Mrs. Ashley, 
for whom Robert had telegraphed in the morn- 
ing, came into the room, and as soon as Freddie 
saw them he ran toward Mrs. Ashley with out- 
stretched arms, and in fright and in tears said, 
‘‘Mamma and papa are doin’ to seper — , are 
doin’ to seper — .” 

He did not understand the word, but he 
knew something was wrong, and Mrs. Ashley, 
before speaking to any one, pressed him to her 
bosom, and wept in pity for the child and for 
the family, whose happiness was destroyed by 
wrong conceptions of duty. For some time the 
stillness of the company was broken only by the 
sighs and sobs of Mrs. Blanden. She was 
brought to a knowledge of the true mission of 
woman, and her humiliation and reprentance 
added another distressing feature to the awful- 
ness of breaking up the home and separating 
mother from husband and children. 

The solemn stillness of death in this home 
would not have inspired a deeper feeling of sad- 
ness than the Ashleys now experienced. Their 
happiness was based upon true devotion to each 
other. To them their most sacred duty was to 
do that which would cultivate their love and pro- 
mote the happiness of their family. 


310 


She Wanted to Vote . 


“Around the family fireside,” said Robert, 
“the supreme joys of life are experienced and 
its impressive lessons are learned, and there is 
no place where boys and girls can be taught good 
principles so well as in the home where parental 
care is constantly over them. We need a home- 
life that will destroy the tendency to create pub- 
lic places of amusement, and I implore you, Mrs. 
Lokeridge, to abjure your method of destroying 
the evils that now exist and class yourself with 
the fathers and mothers who begin the purifying 
of the nation in the sanctuary of the home.” 

“You speak as one man would speak for an- 
other,” she replied. “You well know you have 
made no argument against the rights and privil- 
eges of woman beyond that of mere sentiment.” 

“Your course in life shows clearly its influ- 
ence in the home, and no further argument is 
needed. It also demonstrates, to my mind, that 
if women were an adjunct to political machin- 
ery, their determination to increase their power 
and broaden their opportunities to earn money 
would place the homes of the nation in greater 
peril than now exists.” 

“Do I understand,” said the Doctor, “that 
your public work is dearer to you than the love 
of home and children?” 


Results. 


311 


“Margaret,” interrupted Mrs. Ashley, before 
she replied to her husband, “spare your home! 
You cannot change the destiny of woman nor 
give her a more potent influence in the world 
than she may wield in moulding the disposition 
and forming the character of those entrusted to 
her care. This nation needs more than all else 
mothers and fathers so truly devoted to the 
sacred responsibilities of home * that no power 
nor influence will divert them from that duty.” 

“The time has come, Margaret,” said the 
Doctor in husky tones, “when we will have a 
home of that kind or we will have none. You 
must make your choice between public life and 
your husband and children. In the presence 
of our friends and your mother, this question 
must be settled before the sunlight shines upon 
this place again.” 

Although the Doctor had often reasoned and 
pleaded with her, and even demanded more of her 
time at home, she had never before been forced to 
choose between a public life and home life. In 
the furor of wild excitement she paced to and 
fro for some time before she uttered a word; 
and then, as if addressing herself more than 
those around her, she said, “Shall I give up my 
husband, home and children to continue' this 


312 


She Wanted to Vote. 


struggle for the rights of women, and our war- 
fare aaginst intemperance and other evils, or 
shall I yield to his wishes and give my time and 
talent to mere home life? Should I do this it 
would only be another example of man’s power 
to control woman. No, I will not yield. I will 
sacrifice all for the freedom of woman, and her 
privilege to protect the home by ballot. With 
a free ballot and a voice in making law, the ques- 
tion of her rights will be forever settled and I 
am willing to be a martyr for the cause.” 

Mr. and Mrs. Ashley saw their efforts to 
restore harmony in the Lokeridge home were 
in vain, and as a courtesy they hastened away 
before the last parting words between the Doc- 
tor and his wife were spoken. The Doctor stood 
silently by the couch where little Bessie was 
sleeping, and looking into the happy, innocent 
face, he gently lifted her in his arms. Taking 
Freddie by the hand, he started toward the door. 
There he paused and turning to Mrs. Lokeridge,, 
with the solemnity of one who is making a dying 
statement, he said: 

“I will bid you farewell and take our little 
ones and make for ourselves such a home as 
can be made without a wife and mother. This 
house you may keep. Share it with your mother. 


Results. 


313 


To me it has none of the endearing associations 
that cluster around a happy home, and were it 
not for these helpless, innocent children I would 
welcome the sleep of death which would forever 
close my eyes from its sight and make our sepa- 
ration honorable. Farewell!” 

The misery and discontent thus brought to 
the lives of the Lokeridge family, and the ex- 
tent of the evil can be measured only by Him 
who created life and revealed the law of love 
upon which the marital vows should be taken 
and the family established. And it is only by 
a strict adherence to divine law that contentment, 
peace and happiness will come to the individual, 
extend from home to home, and secure to the 
community, state and nation the highest ideals 
of true greatness. 


THE END. 



v. 




JAN 6 1 1902 























I 









